Humanity
by Gregsonator
Summary: Madeline is a stripper living in Gotham who once had a run in with the infamous Killer Croc back when he was in the circus. With a twist of fate they meet once again and so sparks a romance like no other that will challenge their views and perceptions of the world. Can Madeline change this slowly devolving monster's heart, or will he loose his humanity all together?
1. Prologue

**This is a OCxKiller Croc fanfiction set in the Arkham universe. I may have cut out a little bit of time in the storyline such as the time Killer Croc spent in prison (18 years) so he could be a little bit younger for the story since with the prison time he would be in his 40s and I need a youngish guy for this to work. Please enjoy and I will try to update regularly but no promises.**

 **Prologue**

The travelling circus had come to town and everyone bought a ticket to see the show. The red and white striped tent held so many marvels, children of all ages wanted to hear a lion roar, see a tiger jump through a flaming hoop, and watch as an enormous elephant balanced on a ball. They wanted to see ten clowns climb out a tiny car, and laugh as pies went flying into their faces. The beautiful acrobats swirling about in the air like angels, and the knife throwers dancing with death. Even the most stern of people couldn't deny that the circus was a wonderful place to visit and for those magic few hours, you could forget everything bad going on in the world and just enjoy yourself.

Madeline however, had never been one of those people. She had always found the slapstick humour of the clowns to be too immature for anyone over the age of ten to enjoy, and the acrobats, while beautiful and talented, she thought they deserved to be on a stage performing for ladies and gentlemen, not trailer trash who stuffed their faces with cheap processed hotdogs and laughed at the crudest of jokes. Unluckily for Madeline, she was trailer trash, even had a tramp stamp to prove it, and like many other trailer trash teenage girls, she was at this circus with a young child. Unlike the other girls however, this child was her younger brother and not a poor baby with an unidentified dad.

"Come in come in." One of the circus welcomers encourages, beckoning them to go inside while juggling bowling pins. Madeline rolled her eyes and chose to ignore the man on stilts who was also trying to encourage them to go inside. Her brother, Jack, was pulling on her arm like a rabid dog trying to get free from its leash. He was very excitable, even for a child, and the way he eyed up the pink cotton candy only made Madeline groan at the prospect of trying to get him into bed later.

Madeline's mother had insisted they go to the travelling circus when it stopped in town, possibly so she could keep them out of the house while she entertained her next common thug boyfriend, after all it was hard to give them lap dances with a 6 year old walking around the house. As much as Madeline had begged for her mother to give the job to someone else, the only other option for babysitting duty had been arrested and her children taken into custody. They may be trailer trash but Madeline's mother was not about to let someone like her sister look after her little baby boy.

As they shuffled inside of the tent and emerged near the ring, the seats filling up fast, Madeline felt a wave of dread and despair come over her. She hated this town, it was a dead end, and everyone in it ended up deadbeats. She knew there was no escaping her fate, she knew she was going to be a stripper or at the very least a slutty barmaid, and she had no problems with that. But the strippers and barmaids in this town were so depressing and soulless, at least in places like Gotham City they danced with a fire in their eyes to the electronic beat as the strobe lighting illuminated the club in all the colours known to man. Their work was to party, not just a degrading job to earn money to pay the bills and occasionally your deadbeat boyfriends bail money. If Madeline was going to be trash her whole life, she wanted to be the kind of trash rich, handsome playboys wanted to take home.

"Maddy Maddy, where's the elephant?" Jack asked, jumping up and down like a rabbit on crack.

"I don't know Jack. I don't know if this place even has elephants." Madeline moaned, looking for a seat that wasn't in-between people she didn't like. There were some seats in the middle with a perfect view, however, just as they made a move to take them, a group of girls from Madeline's school slotted into place. It was the summer holidays and she hadn't seen them for a while, but she could tell that one of them was pregnant again. She grinned, the girl had always been a bitch, she deserved to get landed with a brat, perhaps this one would survive all the alcohol and drugs.

They spotted her and gave her a wave and fake smile, the kind of wave and smile done in a bullying manner despite looking friendly, the kind of wave and smile that made you feel bad about yourself and your whole existence. Madeline gritted her teeth and turned her back, dragging her brother off to the corner of the tent to a bad seat at the front near the performers entrance. She had been picked on by those bitches for most of her high school life and part of her primary school experience. Heck, she was sure one of them had pushed her over in the sandbox when they were in kindergarten. They were the popular girls, the bleach blonds with the big tits, black asses and no self respect. While Madeline had done her fair share of sleeping around and occasionally strip teases for guys, she was a part of the cool trailer trash group, the girls that would rather chain you to a motel bed and make off with all your money than just have sex for it.

"Why are we sitting over here, these seats are bad." Jack complained, tugging on Madeline's sleeve.

"Because, these are the only seats left." Madeline lied, ignoring her little brothers attempt to get her attention.

"There are lots of seats."

"Yes but they are reserved." Madeline lied again, and thankfully her brother was dumb enough to just accept that, despite not knowing the meaning of ' _reserved_ '.

"Ladies and gentlemen." A voice announced, and dry ice began to flood out and fill the ring as the lights dropped. "Welcome to Haley's Circus. We have a spectacular show in store for you tonight." Madeline rolled her eyes, it was two in the afternoon.

"A show of magic, mystery, marvels beyond your wildest dreams. Behold the magnificent, the majestic, and the monstrous."

"Wow." Madeline muttered sarcastically. "Really using all of the dictionary there huh?"

From the dry ice emerged the ring master dressed in a suit and top hat with a long purple cape. He wore a masquerade mask and had devil like facial hair. His walk was confident but very theatrical, his gestures loud but again, performing and not naturally acquired. Madeline imagined this confident and charismatic ring master was actually quite a pathetic creep, and if they took away his air of mystery and power, they would be left with a man who was a little too skinny and probably still lived with his mummy, who was most likely the bearded lady of the troop. As he walked up to the women sitting on the front row in the middle, he produced a rose seemingly out of thin air, and presented it to the giggling women, their husbands glaring at the flirtatious ring master. No doubt if they'd met him on the streets in normal attire they would have slapped him for being so forward and not looking like a movie star.

"For the first act, Haley's Circus presents, the amazing acrobatic talents of the Harlequin sisters." The ring master announced, receding into the dry ice once more as three young girls in rainbow leotards emerged. Madeline rested her head in her palm as she slouched in her seat, watching the girls spin, twirl and bend in all manner of directions giving some of the boys a bad representation of what the average girl was capable of. She groaned when the car containing all the clowns trundled out and they clambered out of it, the crowd laughing as they danced around, pretended to fall over, and squirted water each other's eyes. The jugglers, the knife throwers, and even the tiger leaping through the ring of fire were all boring and non-original. Jack seemed to like them enough, but he was entertained by the washing machine just as much as all the bright colours and pathetic showmanship, so they weren't deserving of his attention.

As the knife thrower, who had not thrown knives at any living people spinning on a wheel, left the ring, the ring master, as he had done before, emerged from yet another gallon of dry ice.

"Now, we have a special act coming up, something never before seen in your average circus."

"Really? Because this has been nothing but average." Madeline groaned, and then realised she had spoken a little too loudly. The ring master shot her a glare as if to say ' _shut up and watch like everyone else_ ' and then returned to smiling at the audience with slightly yellowish teeth.

"Haley's Circus is the only circus with such a dangerous creature in its grasp, and we'll be lucky if this performance goes off without a hitch, and the monster does not turn on us."

The children screamed and the adults looked at one another with wonder and curiosity.

Madeline sat up and looked around for an indicator as to what this monster could be. They began to roll in a large glass tank tall enough for everyone in the tent to see inside. There were gasps and awes from the audience when they saw what was inside. At least three crocodiles swimming around, moving up and down angrily as the tank was more vertical than horizontal like a river. They looked uncomfortable, and very aggressive as they flicked their tails and moved at rapid speed, their jaws filled with rows and rows of sharp teeth.

"Oh no ladies and gentlemen, do not worry, we know that crocodiles aren't scary monsters... Or are they?" The ring master shot a glance over to Madeline, almost gloating at this amazing show he had planned. Madeline glared back at him and furrowed her brow. So far, a tank full of angry crocodiles was not enough to be considered a great show, and the forced mystery with all this monster talk was getting annoying.

The ring master began to walk along the front of the audience, his hands behind his back as he took long strides.

"Some people say that man is the most scary creature alive, others say it is creatures like crocodiles. Reptilian monsters descendent from dinosaurs with mouths filled with teeth perfect for biting, and ripping flesh."

He managed to get a group of small children to scream with his description before hopping back into the ring.

"So imagine if you will, a combination of the two. Part man, part crocodile, all monster."

He hurried to the left of the ring on the opposite side from Madeline and Jack.

"I give to you. Killer Croc!" He shouted, and from the performers entrance, slowly walking with big strides, emerged the strangest and most intimidating man Madeline had ever seen.

The ring master had not lied. This, Killer Croc, was indeed part crocodile and part man. He was taller than the average man by at least a head, and his body of strongman proportions. His eyes were a yellowish colour, his long nails black, and his teeth filled down to be pointed like a crocodiles. But the biggest and strangest thing about him was that he was covered, head to clawed foot in greenish coloured scales. He emerged right next to where Madeline and Jack were sitting, uncomfortably close, so much so the people around them actually moved a little bit to get away from him. Madeline didn't flinch, not even when Jack gripped her arm a little too tightly. She was entranced by this man, he was nothing like she had ever seen before. His eyes, while scary and unnatural, were so intense, and looked like the eyes of someone who had never seen anything good. His mouth seemed permanently fixed into a snarl and a low growl could be heard as he walked. There was a collar around his neck, fake of course, but it looked heavy, and so did the broken chain that hung from it. Madeline knew it was all for theatrics of course, but that collar and chain seemed as real to Killer Croc as it would be for a convict in prison.

Killer Croc walked up to the tank and ascended the iron stairs they had rolled to the front of the tank. The audience gasped and pointed as he made the slow walk. Madeline felt her face scrunch up with anger. This man, despite his appearance, was a person who couldn't help whatever genetic condition or accident made him look that way. To poke fun at his abnormality and use it as a twisted form of entertainment was just wrong. It was no better than pointing at someone in a wheelchair or someone who was missing a limb. This was the reason why most places had banned Freak shows, yet here, at Haley's circus, they still had one left.

Once at the top of the tank, standing on a small ledge over the pool of crocodiles, Killer Croc looked down at the tank. Madeline looked up with dread in her eyes, he wasn't actually going to go inside was he? This had to be a trick or something. Those crocodiles would rip him apart, they had no affiliation for someone who only had their skin.

"Tonight, our very own monster shall take on the monsters of Australia, the mighty salt water crocodiles. With the strongest bite ever measured belonging to a mouth of 68 razor sharp teeth, and a thirst for blood. Can Killer Croc survive, can he be more monster than man, or will he get ripped apart."

Madeline found herself standing, silently begging Killer Croc not to do this to himself. The ring master was starting to sound like a game show host on the verge of an add break, and the audience were so wound up the theatrics that they had started chanting _jump jump jump_.

Killer Croc still hadn't jumped yet, even after the moment to jump had passed. Madeline looked over to the ring master who was starting to look a little pissed off. Was Killer Croc going to back down, was he actually going to consider the possibility he might be killed and refuse to do it. A dark thought in the back of Madeline's mind told her that there would most likely be repercussions if he didn't do it, the illegal kind.

Then, when her mind was preoccupied, Killer Croc jumped into the tank, pulling his arms and legs in so his body was protected and so that the water spilled over the edges, sending the crowd wild. They cheered for the macabre fight to commence and Madeline couldn't believe they were happy to watch him fight three giant crocodiles and most likely get killed. Sure he was different looking, but he was still a person, he was still human.

The crocodiles circled him angrily, non attacking yet but they brushed against him, furious that he was in their tank and taking up so much space. Then, one of them decided to make a move, and its jaw opened wide to take a bite. Killer Croc had expected this attack and grabbed the crocodile by its top jaw, slamming it down and closing the crocodiles mouth. The crocodile wriggled and tried to break free but Killer Croc put his arms around it and began to squeeze it hard, trying to break its back. It didn't take too long, and the crocodile snapped like a twig, let go to drift to the bottom of the tank.

Another crocodile attack and Killer Croc attempted to do the same, however, the third crocodile attacked him from behind and bit into his left shoulder. Bubbles of air escaped Killer Croc's mouth as he grunted in pain, and the crocodile began to twist in its famous deathroll. Killer Croc turned his body around in the water to keep up with the crocodiles roll so he didn't lose a chunk of his shoulder. The other crocodile, who had escaped his grasp, came in for another try and bit into Killer Croc's right side.

"Stop this he's going to die!" Madeline yelled, and the ring master shot her another glare.

"Calm down, it's part of the show." He said with a snarl, as if he was enjoying this torture show.

"You can't stand there and tell me that this is all special effects and makeup, that those crocodiles aren't really trying to rip him limb from limb." Madeline shouted, standing on the edge of the ring. She didn't know what she was going to do. All she could do was run up to the glass and start banging on it, but that wouldn't help.

"Trust me lady, he knew what he was getting into and he's done this plenty of times before. He'll be fine. I think."

That last comment was said just to make Madeline more angry, but there was nothing she could do but tighten her fists and grit her teeth.

"Sis, why are you so upset?" Jack asked, tugging on her shirt.

"I'm upset Jack, because this is wrong. Okay?" Madeline knelt down and put her hands on her brother's shoulders. "Don't be like everyone else here, don't cheer for this kind of thing. Just because the victim is different. Only punish those who deserve it. Okay? Do you understand me?"

Killer Croc managed to get his legs up and around the crocodile on his shoulder, gripping with his feet and pulling as hard as he could. He ripped the crocodile from his shoulder, a bit of his fresh going with it, and blood began to fill the tank. The crocodile swam around but he grabbed it, yanked it forward and bit into its throat with his teeth. Madeline covered her mouth, it was shocking to say the least, but kind of impressive. Then, as the second crocodile fell to a watery grave, the last crocodile met its fate. Ripping the crocodile from his side and ignoring the obvious pain in his shoulder and side, he grabbed the jaws of the crocodile and pulled them apart, pulling against that incredible jaw strength and eventually, snapping the jaw all together. The third and final crocodile fell to the bottom of the tank and Killer Croc swam up to the surface where the stairs had been moved once again. He emerged from the water, bloody and torn, gritting his teeth as he walked down the stairs, clutching his shoulder.

Madeline couldn't believe it, he had actually survived it. He had actually killed three crocodiles, survived having his shoulder and side ripped up, all in one breath of air. This man was amazing. Yet, although they cheered, the audience still saw him as a freak. Killer Croc, now walking without clutching his wounds, made his way to the exit, moving quicker now, as if he was dying to get out of there. Madeline didn't blame him. Without hesitation, she rushed over to the edge of the seating near the performer entrance and peered through the bars as Killer Croc walked past.

"Are you okay?" She asked. A dumb question she knew, but what else could she say.

"Yeah." Killer Croc muttered as he kept walking, their eyes meeting for a moment, but that moment was gone in seconds.

"Three fucking crocodiles!" Waylon shouted, slamming his hands on Mr Haley's desk, making the whole trailer shake.

"What can I say, it was getting too easy." Mr Haley explained casually, used to Waylon's outbursts.

"Too easy? You try fighting crocodiles every night and then tell me if you want it harder or to keep it easy!" Waylon snapped, his shoulder still roaring with pain even after the med team had bandaged it up. Luckily for him, he healed fast, the only downside was that each time he healed, his skin grew back worse.

"Look, you didn't die, that's the important part. Plus, the crowd loved it, so it's going to be the new normal, okay?"

"Not okay. I'm fine being your freak show, but I wanna to be a living freak show, not a corpse you drag around in a jar."

"You'll be fine with whatever arrangement I decide." Mr Haley snapped, getting to his feet. He was a short man, but muscular, had a long beard and an infinite supply of cigars. He was an asshole, and never played by the rules.

"Don't forget Lizard Boy, I own you. Or did you forget that your aunty sold you to me for booze money." Mr Haley hissed, shoving the contract, or rather _deed of sale_ , in Waylon's face. Waylon growled at the paper. His aunt had sold him to the circus when he was twelve, back then, they had stuffed him in a cage and made him prowl around like an animal. They'd even filed his teeth town to make him look more like the Killer Croc they were selling him as. In reality, he was a normal guy. Well, not totally normal, but his skin wasn't the result of an unholy union between man and crocodile, it was a very bad form of _Epidermolytic hyperkeratosis_ , and perhaps a small bit of old fashioned mutation as well. It would explain why he felt himself turning into more of an animal by the day.

"Own me? Big words. You gave my aunt money and in return she handed over guardianship to you. I'm 21, last time I checked I'm old enough to do whatever I want. You don't own me like a slave you racist fuck."

"Fine. You're an adult, go on, leave. See who will hire you. Perhaps you can get a job delivering pizza. Oh wait, no one is going to hire a lizard skin freak to do anything, and I certainly doubt any women would invite you in like they do in all of those pornos you watch. Sorry to crush your dreams."

Waylon wanted to toss that asshole out of the trailer, crush him into the ground and rip of his head with his teeth. He would dismember, main, and rip Mr Haley apart. But he couldn't. Mr Haley was right, he couldn't go anywhere. He had tried it before and gotten arrested, and the judge hadn't taken a liking to him and given him a stern sentence. Luckily he was out pretty quickly on parole, and had come traipsing back to Haley's Circus, and no doubt if he had a tail it would have been in-between his legs.

He turned sharply and exited the trailer, Mr Haley grunting with approval as he did so. Outside everyone was packing up the tent and equipment, the dead crocodiles disposed of. They were to hit the road in the morning and be gone from this quiet little town of overly enthusiastic trailer trash. They had loved every minute of the fight, and Waylon was sure they had wanted to see him dead by the end of it rather than emerge victorious. Even though they had cheered for him, he knew it wasn't for him, just for the show. They wouldn't have the same reaction if he passed them in the street, no, they would throw rocks at him, ridicule him, and then he would get shot when a fight started because he was the obvious threat. The only person in that stand that seemed like a decent human being was that girl with the little boy, the one who had asked him if he was okay. No one ever asked if he was okay, not even the med team.

As he walked back to his trailer, a few slightly drunk teenagers staggered around near the edge of the circus campsite. They spotted him and started swearing at him, some even throwing rocks. He was reminded all too painfully of a childhood of rock throwing, where every hit caused a wound, and every wound healed more scaly than the last. He chose to ignore them, and walked around the back of a larger trailer, blocking them from sight. Instead of the teens harassing him however, he almost walked into someone. When he took a step back to avoid them, he realised it was the same girl from before, this time without the kid. She had long, straight, chocolaty brown hair, pale skin void of any freckles or spots, and big green eyes like sparkling gems. She was very pretty, but also had a sharpness about her face, a sternness that seemed to give him the impression she wouldn't just scratch and hair pull her way through a fight.

"Oh my god." The girl gasped, a little shocked by him, as was expected. But she didn't try to run away or come up with some bullshit reason as to why she had to leave quickly.

"Sorry." Waylon muttered, moving to step around her.

"Wait." The girl said, stopping Waylon in his tracks. What did she want? An autograph?

"I came to check on you." She said, fumbling with her words. She looked nervous. So she should be.

"Why?" Waylon asked sceptically. He was used to this kind of response from people. At least when they swore or screamed there was nothing to hide.

"To see if you were okay. That fight with the crocodiles was awful. I don't understand how anyone could consider that family friendly entertainment." The girl explained, seemingly distraught at the concept as she peered at Waylon's wounds. "I mean, they really did take chunks out of your body."

Waylon shrugged like it was no big deal. The shrug did hurt his shoulder, but he wouldn't let that show through either. It was a big deal, he had nearly died, but it seemed so much cooler to shrug it off and since this was the only girl ever to not run away from him, he wanted to seem cool.

"Why do you let this happen to you?" She asked, a question Waylon was not prepared for and did not know the answer to. He shrugged again, this time not to be cool. He didn't really want to have this conversation. Then again, he really wanted to have _a_ conversation.

"You shouldn't, you should do something else."

"Oh yeah, like what?" Waylon laughed, but it was a pained laugh. He really wanted the girl to come up with something, anything.

"Well, I dunno. Maybe just stand around and go ' _look at me, I'm a crocodile man_ ' or something like that."

"Ha! No. I've done the sideshow freak thing before. Its degrading and doesn't pay as well."

"Well then, outside of a circus... You could... Maybe..."

The girl sighed and threw her hands up in the air.

"I got nothing." She said dismally, shaking her head. "I give up. I loose. No points to me." Waylon smiled, not because of anything the girl had said, but because of how comfortable she was around him. She was trying to make him get his act together and suggesting silly ideas with ease, no discomfort and she didn't seem nervous or scared. He hadn't had this in a long time. The girl must have noticed his smile because she smiled back, a cute smile, an honest smile.

"You know, I understand what it's like." The girl began, leaving Waylon a little taken aback.

"You couldn't possibly understand what it's like to be..."

"No no no. Not that. I could never understand that. What I mean is, I understand what it's like to feel like you can never do anything other than what the world has assigned for you. You follow?" She asked, her smile faded from her face.

"Not sure I do." Waylon said, confused as to what she was talking about.

"Like. I'm trailer trash, I come from a long line of lowlife trailer trash drug dealers and strippers, and I know that I too shall become a stripper, and I'm okay with that. But, sometimes, I wish that I could be bold enough to step out from the path that I'm supposed to take."

"Then why don't you?"

"Because, I'm worried I'll fail at it, and everyone will laugh and say ' _I told you so_ '."

"That's a stupid reason."

"Yeah I know. But it's a real reason, and it's one that got me kicked out of school. But don't you worry, I'm not going to be some small town stripper, I'm going to be one of those fancy strippers that takes her clothes off for mob bosses, you know. The big fish in the sea."

It was a little weird but Waylon liked how honest she was. Sure being a stripper wasn't exactly a profession you aspired to, and the girl had said it herself that she was resigned to her fate, but at least she was going to make it to the top of that profession and not turn tricks for dollar bills.

"I guess what I mean to say without making it all about me is that you shouldn't do what I'm going to do. You should try to do something else. I'm not saying become a lawyer or whatever, just not _this_. I'd hate to see what happened to you today, to happen to you again."

Those words stuck in Waylon's head. Compassion. True compassion and concern from another human being who actually cared about his wellbeing. A complete stranger too, and a pretty girl to boot. He might have just fallen in love.

"Well I better go. The woman I left my brother with has never actually been sound of mind and she might start sacrificing children if I don't go and relieve her. It was nice to talk to you."

The girl started to walk away and Waylon felt his legs beg him to move and his arms call to reach out.

"Wait." He managed to stutter, and the girl stopped and turned around. As she did so, her hair flew gracefully and her skin shined in the sun set light, a luminescent beauty.

"What?" She asked, and Waylon realised he had been silent for a little too long to be comfortable.

"What's your name?" He asked, feeling like a teenage boy asking a girl out to prom, not that he ever went.

"Madeline Hopper." She said, the words rolling off her tongue beautifully. "And you Mr Killer Croc?"

"Waylon. Waylon Jones." He replied, feeling embarrassed for some reason. Luckily for him his skin condition meant he didn't blush like a little girl.

"Nice to meet you Waylon. If we ever bump into each other again, we should totally get a drink."

And with that, Madeline left, and Waylon stood in the middle of the circus camp, feeling as high as a kite. Sadly that dizziness was due to blood loss, and he quickly passed out.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **6 Years Later**

Madeline's head was pounding like a jackhammer on concrete when she awoke in her small apartment, the windows shaking as a train passed by and the glasses on the counter clinking together. She groaned and covered her head with a pillow, burying her face into the mattress. Flash backs of the previous night were fuzzy but persistent in her mind. They'd gone to a party, her and a few girl friends, gotten drunk and done a free performance for some of the guys. Two of her friends had gone home with those guys but Madeline and one other had sobered up a bit before the remaining guys had made an advance and snuck off home.

She rolled over and bumped into her friend Paula, who was sleeping deeply and did not wake for anything. They were both still fully clothed, their makeup marred all over their face and sweating out the alcohol profusely. All Madeline wanted to do was pop a few pain killers and go back to bed, but they had a job to do and they were going to be late if they didn't hurry up and get ready.

Pushing with her feet, she rolled Paula out of bed and onto the floor with a loud thud.

"Ow." Paula groaned, rolling over and trying to curl up with her hands on her head.

"Come on, we'll be late." Madeline ordered, hopping over her friend and staggering towards the kitchen counter. The apartment was all one room with a tiny closet sized bathroom just big enough for a shower and toilet. The kitchen occupied half of a wall and was covered in various left over dishes and empty bottles. She really needed to clean the place up a bit.

"I don't wanna." Paula moaned, but she did sit up with her back against the bed. Madeline looked over at her, and then at the window her bed was pressed against. It was another grey day in Gotham, hardly any different to night time, still a city of depravity and criminal supremacy, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

As she made coffee, Paula wondered around the apartment, staggering a little as her right leg had fallen asleep.

"So what's this job again?" She asked as she examined a flyer on the notice board. Madeline had a big cork board collage of all the things she wanted to treasure in her life. Tickets to a concert, flyers from events she attended, photographs from that one family holiday they took where no one got caught smuggling drugs.

"It's a little private dance for a couple of The Penguin's top few guards or something like that. I dunno, maybe a reward or something."

"I didn't think mob bosses gave out rewards for good behaviour, I thought they only punished their goons for not being able to capture the Bat." Paula laughed. "Like anyone could capture him." Madeline bit her lip and scowled. She didn't like the famous Dark Knight of Gotham. Sure, he was the hero of Gotham and saved the city countless times from maniac clowns and half burned ex lawyers, but why did he have to be a bat? Madeline hated bats, they were flying rodents for fuck sake, what could be scarier than a snarling, clawing rat with leathery wings flying around dive bombing criminals.

"I don't think the Penguin organised us, I think the guards have some free time and decided to reward themselves for not running into Batman and therefore not getting their asses kicked by him." Madeline explained, walking over to the cork board with two coffees in hand. She passed one to Paula who sipped it in relished in the hangover removing powers of caffeine. She looked over at the board again, eyeing up tickets to a popular concert from a year or so ago, and then her eyes lingered on a flyer from a circus.

"What happened at Haley's circus?" Paula asked, pointing to the flyer. Madeline had forgotten that she'd kept that flyer and looked at it again with curiosity.

"It was a show I went to with my brother." She explained, taking a sip of coffee. "There was a performance that I wanted to remember."

"Ooh, was it impressive? Like a wheel of death or something?" Paula asked, excited about the prospect of an amazing circus performance. Madeline of course, had kept the flyer because of an abhorrible performance, and even then it wasn't because of the performance, she wanted to remember the performer. That incredible but miserable man with skin like a crocodile.

"We better start getting ready." Madeline said suddenly, snapping out of her trip down memory lane. "We have to be outside the club by 3 so the car can pick us up."

They showered and dressed as fast as possible, their marred and messy makeup replaced with a new coating that made their face shapes appear different. They dressed in usual stripping attire, sexy lingerie beneath short skirts and crop tops, bangles around their wrist and high heel boots. Madeline donned a leather jacket while Paula wrapped a scarf around her neck, various additions to the outfit to extend the stripping time. They both put on long trench coats to hide the attire so they wouldn't get harassed. After they each took a shot of whisky they hurried outside the apartment complex and hailed a taxi.

"You ladies off to work?" The taxi driver asked, leaning over the back of his chair to eye up the two scantily clad women.

"Yeah, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive." Paula said, checking her makeup in her phone's front camera.

"Don't suppose you want to start your shift a little early." The taxi driver suggested, glancing at Madeline's high heel boots.

"Wrong profession buddy. We get naked, but we do not get busy." Madeline corrected, snapping at him a little too fiercely. The taxi driver grumbled and switched the meter on. The trip to work always had people mistaking them for hookers, hence why they wore trench coats, but neither of them ever wanted to stoop to that level of depravity. Stripping wasn't exactly a profession to be proud of, but at least they were able to retain some dignity.

The drive to the strip club was long due to traffic caused by a high speed chase the night before, a fuel tanker lying across the road. When they arrived at the club, the black car ordered to pick them up and take them to the Iceberg Lounge was already parked outside.

"Shit." Madeline cursed, hopping out of the car before it had even stopped as Paula threw her card at the driver. She hurried inside the building and found two of the Penguin's men talking to the owner of the club, both very pissed off.  
"There she is." The club owner exclaimed, angry but relieved that Madeline had finally shown up. "What took you so long?"

"Traffic was a bitch. Or rather, traffic was a Bat, depending on who caused that tanker to topple over." She said casually, hand on hip and eyes on one of the men. She could flirt her way out of anything, and the thugs usually liked it when she made jokes about Batman.

"Well the guys are going to be pissed about this." One of the men said, the one she hadn't been flirting with. "We want different girls."

"Oh come on, you don't want to switch us out for different models." Madeline pouted, trying to sound seductive. "We are the best at what we do and when you want a good show, you get the best, not some cheap knock off riddled with flaws." She ran her hands through her hair and arched her back as she spoke, pushing her chest out for a moment, and unnecessarily ran her hands back down her body as she lowered her arm. The thugs liked it.

"Alright then, we'll keep you. But we better not run any red lights."

When they rocked up at the iceberg lounge Madeline felt very cold. Not because it was cold or that the iceberg lounge had a lot of ice in it, but because the thug she had been flirting with to keep the job hadn't taken his eyes off her the whole trip. She was used to be ogled, but this guy was transfixed, it was getting creepy. Even as they ascended the stairs to the guards lounge where at least six guys sat on the pale blue couches, ready for a show, the thug still hadn't stopped staring at her. Paula seemed comfortable enough, she wasn't the subject of a creepy gaze, and was the first to introduce herself.

"Hi everyone. My name is Cindy." She giggled as she twirled her blonde hair. She acted cute and giggly like a high school girl, plus she somewhat resembled the infamous Harley Quinn and acted a little bit crazy to fulfil a common thug fantasy. No matter their allegiance, most thugs in Gotham had a thing for the Clown Princess.

"And this is my friend Maddy."

Madeline gave a wink with a sneaky smile. Her act was more like a temptress, a seductive femme fatale. A thug had once suggested she dye her hair red and act like Poison Ivy, that way the thugs could get their dream double dance with two of the sexiest criminals in Gotham. All they needed was a third girl clad in leather with cat ears and they'd be set.

They began the dance on the coffee table situated in front of couch and men. They assisted each other in undressing, feeling each other's bodies and exciting the audience with their suggested lesbianism. Paula pressed herself against Madeline, their breast mashing together, as she undid the ribbons that held Madeline's shirt together. As the fabric fell, revealing the red lingerie underneath. A few of the men whistled and a few others called for more. Paula turned around and bent over slightly so Madeline had to push herself against Paula's ass, bending over and untying Paula's top. As Paula straightened, Madeline pulled herself closer and pulled the top down from the front. They tossed it to the men who gripped it a little too tightly.

Once they were undressed and stood there in their lingerie, long stockings up to their thighs clipped onto their thongs, the push up bra's making their breasts seem fuller than they actually were, they descended from the coffee table and onto the laps of the men. While there was a no touching rule, they did allow the occasional caress, but nothing that meant the men controlled their dance or turned it into foreplay. Madeline was trying to avoid dancing for the thug that had been eyeing her all evening, but he was refusing Paula's advances and had demanded he have the next lap dance from Madeline.

"What the bloody hell are you lot doing?" A British voice yelled, and all the men leapt to their feet. Madeline sighed with relief, saved by the boss.

"Just having a bit of fun Mr Cobblepot sir." One of the men explained as Madeline and Paula hurried to one another. If the big mob boss came in, the standard procedure for strippers was to stand together away from the men they had been entertaining so it was obvious they were not connected to the men in anyway. The Penguin, a short, fat and ugly looking man with a pointed nose like a beak and beady little eyes, eyed them up with a scowl.

"I'll take the blonde one, looks like the clowns bitch. The rest of you finish up and get back to work. There are guns that need shipping and I'd rather you got it done before the Bat comes out."

Paula grabbed her coat and hurried over to the angry little man, slightly terrified but willing to do anything if it meant she wouldn't end up at the bottom of the Gotham River. You greatly increased your chances of getting out alive if you did whatever the big bosses wanted, no matter how depraved it was, but still, most of them were crazy. Once Paula and Penguin were out of sight, the thug that had been staring at Madeline came up behind her quickly and wrapped his arm around her waist, the other holding her chin up so he could kiss her neck.

"How about you and I finish up with more than a private dance." He suggested, nibbling on her ear. His hand ran down her stomach and slipped into her underwear. She promptly pulled away from him, spun around and glared.

"Oh no you don't. I'm not that kind of girl. If you want sex, get a hooker." She snapped. It wasn't wise to snap at criminals, but she was not about to take it lying down, or standing up, or over the coffee table. Besides, most thugs new that the clubs kept record of which girls went where, and who came back with bruises and who didn't come back at all. The strip club industry was quite powerful in Gotham, and if they noticed that one group of thugs never returned their girls in one piece, those thugs would never be able to hire them out again. The only exceptions to the rule were the big bosses, like Penguin, Twoface and Joker. They were too powerful and too unstable to deny service too, hence why Paula had just gone along with Penguin despite the rules.

"Come on. You take your clothes off for money, how far away is that from fucking for it." The thug snarled, moving in closer. Madeline backed up into a wall of thugs who didn't want her to leave. She wasn't quite sure if they'd all try and have a go with her, or if they would just let their buddy do what he wanted and then blame him when they were denied service again. Either way, she was terrified.

The thug grabbed her and made an attempt to bend her over the couch, her hands behind her back and her legs spread. However, as he put his hand on her shoulder, she quickly whipped around and bit his hand, biting down so hard a bit of flesh actually came off. The thug staggered back, screaming as he held his hand up, a chunk missing. Madeline spat it out in his direction. If she was going to get killed, she was going to leave her mark.

"You bitch, you bit me!" He yelled, his hand shaking as he wrapped Madeline's discarded shirt around it.

"Yeah I did. And I'll do it again if you touch me one more time." Madeline hissed, picking up her trench coat and wrapping it around herself. She was not going to die in lingerie.

"Oh man, you are feisty." The thug grinned, sounding a little manic and excited for someone who was supposed to be angry. "You want to bite, fine, you can bite. Let's see how long you can manage against something that does nothing but bite."

They grabbed her and dragged her down into the basement of the Iceberg Lounge where it was dark and dank. She had no idea what was going on but they had her held fast and would not put their hands near her mouth. Finally they came to a steel hatch in the floor with a sign plastered on it saying ' _do not feed_ '.

"Last chance baby. You fuck me for free and I won't break this rule here." The thug threatened, gesturing towards the sign. Madeline spat in his face.

"Go ahead. I'd rather die than fuck you." She snapped, making one last attempt to struggle free.

"Well, the offer still stands. Perhaps you'll change your mind once you get in there." He laughed, and two of the thugs opened up the hatch. They pushed her inside and she fell quite a distance before hitting the ground not quite hard enough to break anything, but hard enough for it to hurt. She pushed herself to her knees and grunted as her body hurt, and looked around for a way out.

The room was dark and wet, a small grate allowing water to flow into the room and another small grate on the floor allowing it to leave. It was dark and the only way out seemed to be a large door controlled from the outside. There was an air vent high up near the ceiling but the air was stagnant and smelt like it belonged to a sealed off ancient ruin. She looked around for whatever creature was supposed to killer her, but saw only darkness. Then, a low rumbling growl sounded and a hulking figure emerged from the shadows, at least three heads taller than the average man, and broader than the most muscular body builder. It had glowing yellow eyes and pointed teeth, its skin covered from head to clawed foot in greenish scales. It snarled and hissed as it approached, but Madeline didn't try to run or scream for help. She stood up, confusion on her face combined with a little bit of curiosity and a small dose of happiness.

"Waylon?"


	3. Chapter 2

**Just a quick note. Croc looks like he does in the Arkham City games, however, he has the mouth that he had in the Arkham Origins game since it will be difficult to do what they need to do with an angler fish mouth**

 **Chapter 2**

Waylon sniffed the air, there was no recognisable scent, only strong perfume that scorched his nostrils. The woman standing before him didn't look familiar either. She was tall, brown hair, green eyes, wore a long trench coat and long boots, and had the typical face of a floozy. He had no clue who she was, but she somehow new his name and didn't run upon seeing him. She was supposed to run, they always ran away, and why wouldn't they, he was a monstrous creature, bigger than any human and covered in scales. He hadn't always looked like that of course, before he moved to Gotham to start up as a criminal boss he had looked more like a human with a skin condition. Now, after various trips to Arkham Asylum and little experiments done on him by the doctors there in the name of science and ' _curing_ ' his condition, everything had gotten worse and now he didn't even resemble a human.

"Is that really you?" The woman asked, stepping forward. Waylon almost took a step back. No one walked towards him unless they were trying to capture him, and they usually flew towards him on black wings. He growled low at the woman who did hesitate to move anymore. Now she was getting scared, like she should be.

"It really is you isn't it." The woman said, almost sounding sad. "What happened to you? Why do you look like this?"

Waylon growled again, this time he moved forward, baring his teeth. The woman did not back away but she held her hands close to her chest in a pathetic attempt to shield herself.

"Are you even you anymore?" She asked despondently. "Are you okay?"

There it was, those three words. ' _Are you okay?'_. There was only one person who had ever asked him that, everyone else either didn't care, was too afraid, or made their own assumptions of his condition before administering a sedative. It was her. It was that girl from six years ago who had asked him if he was okay after he'd nearly gotten killed by those three crocodiles in Haley's Circus. The girl that had found him after the show to check on him, who had made him laugh and didn't seem the slightest bit uncomfortable around him.

"Madeline." He whispered, the name forgotten on his tongue but oh so nice to say out loud.

"You do remember me." Madeline said with a sigh of relief. "I was beginning to worry that you'd forgotten and would..."  
"Eat you?" Waylon said dryly, snarling for no real reason.

"Well yes, I'm not going to lie." Madeline said blankly, her wonderful honesty was a breath of fresh air. "You were growling at me and not talking, I thought something might have happened to your mind. I mean, something has obviously happened to your body." There was silence between them for a moment.

"What did happen to your body?" Madeline asked, moving closer again and peering at the scales on his arm. They were indeed more reptilian and pronounced than they had been six years ago, mainly due to an experiment Dr Strange had conducted where he chopped off Waylon's arm to see how rapidly it would grow back. It had grown back more reptilian and deformed, same could be said for every other part of his body that got cut, sampled or messed with.

"Enough of _your_ questions." Waylon grumbled. "What are you doing here?"

"I pissed off the wrong guy."

"Penguin?"

"No, one of his thugs. I think he fell in love with me or something and got pissed off when I turned him down for sex."

"Why did he ask for it in the first place?" Waylon asked, raising an eyebrow. Madeline looked very angry at what he was implying.

"I'm not a prostitute you know! And I don't sleep around." She snapped, folding her arms and scowling at him. She was feisty, and he liked that.

"Then why were you with thugs in penguins lounge?"

"I was working."

"And working is..?"

Madeline looked at him as if he had forgotten what colour her eyes were, total shock at his audacity to not know.

"Didn't I tell you what I was going to do with my life?"

Then Waylon remembered their conversation about being resigned to your fate.

"Ah." He realised. "Fancy stripper for mob bosses."

"See you do remember."

"I used to be a mob boss." Waylon muttered casually. Madeline scowled at him but also let a smile sneak onto her face.

"' _Used to_ ' doesn't cut it. If you want a dance you gotta be current."

Waylon laughed. She was so feisty and flirtatious, even though he was the ugliest thing to walk the planet she still found it easy to poke harmless fun at him and flirt a little. He did have to admit it made him feel good.

"Speaking of mob bosses, why are you trapped in Penguin's basement?" Madeline asked, walking around the room looking for a way out.

"Pissed him off." Waylon begrudgingly admitted. "Killed some of his men who were using the sewers to transport guns and took the merchandise for myself. He waited until Batman knocked me out, and then distracted Batman so his guys could load me into the truck and throw me in here."

"And how long ago was that?"

"I dunno. Feels like ages but it could have only been a few weeks."

"Hmm, so why keep you alive?"

Waylon bit the inside of his mouth, causing it to bleed. He really didn't want to tell her why he was still alive in the basement of the Iceberg Lounge. He really didn't want to have to explain that he was the garbage disposal for Penguin. Anyone Penguin wanted dead and gone for good, they would get thrown into the basement for a starving Killer Croc to devour. Despite the popular belief that Waylon was a cannibal, partially down to the fact that Waylon himself encouraged the rumour to make people fear and stay away from him, he didn't actually like eating people all that much. The times he had supposedly eaten someone, in actual fact he had just torn them to shreds with his teeth. On occasions that he had actually consumed human flesh, such as when he ate the hand of Police Office Cash, it was to send a message. Regrettably though, since being the disposal unit for Penguin, he had been forced to eat more human flesh than he was comfortable with since Penguin wouldn't feed him anything else. It made him feel sometimes, as well as the fact it didn't help with his desire to act more animalistic.

In the criminal underworld, it was a little known fact that he was slowly losing his mind. The more the doctors at Arkham experimented on him, and the more his body regenerated reptilian, the more he felt himself becoming the monster everyone knew him to be. On occasion, he would feel the urge to kill and terrorise for no good reason, and the use of his teeth to fight over his fists was becoming more prominent. He would snap at Batman and get caught more easily rather than using his whole body to fight. And especially when those pieces of flesh found their way into his stomach and it didn't make him sick, then he got worried. Also, there had been gaps in his memory, times when he couldn't remember going into a fight, only waking up to realise he had blood all over him and a lot of bodies to dispose of. It was like he was losing himself.

But here and now, with Madeline, he didn't feel that way. Just before she had been throw in with him, he had been stalking back and forth, growling and hissing like a beast. Even when he didn't realise it was her, he still growled and snapped. However, once he knew that it was that girl, that wonderful girl who had shown a little bit of kindness and consideration towards him, he felt normal again. He felt a man talking to a woman, not a monster talking to a potential victim. It did make him wonder though, what if he lost it around her. What if in this room he got too hungry to cope and accidentally ripped her to pieces. He did not deny that it would probably send him over the edge for good.

"Waylon?" Madeline asked, putting her hand on a silent Killer Croc's arm. He snapped out of whatever train of thought had kept him away for a good minute. He didn't seem to like to be touched because he moved his arm and turned away from her to walk over to the corner. Madeline watched him as he slumped down against the wall. He was so different to how he had been six years ago. For one thing, he was taller and broader than humanly possible, which begged the question, was he still technically human? Madeline had no idea what had caused him to transform so drastically, and when she had asked him he'd changed topic. She looked closely at his face. He still had the same yellow eyes, those intense eyes that had never witnessed anything good in this horrible world that continued to deal him a bad hand. Madeline knew he had dealt several bad hands back, she wasn't deaf, she had heard the news about a _Killer Croc_ tormenting Gotham. Originally she had thought it was someone else since the description hadn't matched the Waylon she had seen six years ago.

Oddly enough, it didn't bother her one bit that he had killed hundreds of people and supposedly eaten a few of them. The world was a hard place, and Gotham certainly supported that fact. She wasn't a completely law abiding citizen herself, no one in her family was, and because of that they were treated differently, which gave them no other choice than to live up to societies expectations of them as drug dealers, strippers and lowlifes. That did not compare in the slightest to the expectations that had been placed upon Waylon however, they had decided he would be a side show freak for the rest of his life. He had gone and proved them wrong by becoming a criminal kingpin in Gotham, even if only for a time. That was a victory and something to be celebrated, even if most people saw it as wrong.

"Right!" She announced as she clapped her hands together, the sound echoing around the room. "We are getting out of here."

"How?" Waylon asked, looking very sceptical.

"Madeline looked around. Waylon looked strong enough to rip off the bars of the grate and it did seem wide enough for Madeline to crawl though, however, that would take her out to the sewer system and deliver her somewhere far away. Plus, she'd have to get back into the iceberg lounge from outside and past all the guards, it wasn't practical or doable in the least.

Then she remembered the air vent and was delighted to see that it was just big enough for her to crawl through. She could easily follow it to the control room for the electronic door and open it for Waylon. There wouldn't be any guards for her to face, and if she needed to run she could crawl back into the vent.

"Can you get the cover off the vent?" She asked, pointing to it. Waylon got up with a grunt and reached up, pulling it from the vent without so much as an ounce of effort. His new found size had its perks. He tossed it to the ground.

"Now what? I can't fit in there." He said blankly. Madeline rolled her eyes.

"Of course you can't buddy, you're as big as a house. I'm going in there. You stay here."

Waylon scowled at her, growling quite loudly.

"You can't just leave me here." He snapped, rather aggressively like he had done before when he didn't think he knew who Madeline was.

"Calm down." Madeline explained, sensing serious abandonment issues. "I'm going to follow it to the control room and open that big door for you. Then we can get out."

"How do I know you won't just leave." Waylon snapped again, this time bearing his teeth.

Madeline felt a bead of sweat drip down her forehead. He was goddamn scary, she wouldn't lie about that. Plus, even though she didn't have a problem with the fact he had killed and eaten people, she couldn't totally forget the fact he had killed and eaten people. She kept herself calm however, and took a deep breath.

"You're going to have to trust me." She said with a small smile. It was the best she could muster while thinking to herself ' _please don't kill me in a fit of rage_ '.

"I don't trust people easily." Waylon admitted dismally, sounding like he almost regretted that fact.

"Well, you're going to have to trust in me this time, or we're never getting out of here."

Waylon growled begrudgingly, and looked to be fighting with himself whether or not to trust her. Madeline walked towards him, trying to not to let it show that she was slightly scared. She wanted to rest her hand on his arm or something but knew he would recoil so she tightened her fists to stop herself.

"I came here with a friend. She went with Penguin for a private dance and I can't rescue her alone. If you can't bring yourself to trust me, then tell yourself that I need you and that I'm only freeing you to save my own ass and my friend."

"Are you?" Waylon asked, almost sounding heartbroken. Madeline was genuinely shocked, he really was fragile with this sort of thing.

"No I'm not. I do actually want you to trust me, but I do also have a friend that needs saving and I can't do that alone."

Madeline thought some more on a better way to approach this topic and perhaps help Waylon's trust issues in the process.

"In a way. I'm trusting that you'll help me save my friend and not ditch me once I get you out of here."

Waylon thought for a moment, and looked kind of confused as he tried to work out who was trusting who. He didn't seem like the intellectual type, but then again, Madeline had never been interested in smart asses.

"Think of this way. I'll put my trust in you, and you do the same with me. Alright?" Madeline asked, praying he would trust her. Even if everyone had betrayed him or let him down, he needed to trust her this one time.

"Alright." Waylon muttered, and stepped aside to let Madeline through. Madeline gave a big sigh of relief and smiled.

"You know you're going to have to help me up there." She said casually, hand on hip as she looked at the vent that was too high for her to reach. Waylon rolled his eyes and offered his hands for leg up. Madeline was kind of hoping he'd pick her up but she took the leg up without question and clambered into the vent. Waylon did help however by pushing her into the vent, his hand making contact with her ass, which would be exposed if not for her trench coat, thanks to the thugs not letting her get her clothes back on.

"Hey." She wined as Waylon pushed her.

"Saw an opportunity, I took it." Waylon admitted quickly. "Now hurry up, I'm hungry."

Nothing could make Madeline move faster than the prospect of a hungry Killer Croc, and she awkwardly crawled through the vent. She took the first right and followed it along, hoping it would come out near the control room since it was adjacent to the room they had been in. Sure enough, she reached the end and the control for the door and the door itself was there and unguarded. She scrambled to get onto her back and kicked the vent grate out with her boots before sliding out of the vent and landing on her hands and feet like a cat.

She hurried over to the controls and looked for a big red button with ' _open door_ ' written on it, but sadly there was no such button. She knew Waylon would get agitated if she took too long, thinking she'd abandoned him, and she didn't want to give him the slightest idea that he couldn't trust her. Then she spotted a button to the side of the door and pressed it hard, fingers crossed that it wouldn't release toxic gas or something. Thankfully, the door beeped and opened slowly. Once it started moving however, Waylon's hands were under it and he lifted the door up with all the strength he could muster, it _was_ a heavy door.

"Finally!" Waylon exclaimed, stretching his arms up in the newfound space.

"See, told ya you could trust me." Madeline said with a cocky smile. "Now can I trust you?"

"I ain't leaving until every one of 'em is dead." He growled with a grin. He seemed genuinely happy, in a manic sort of way.

"Good, but on one condition." Madeline explained, stopping Waylon before he ran off to start the bloodshed.

"You aren't talking me out of killing them. I ain't a good guy." Waylon grumbled, the desire to kill the people who had imprisoned him starting to make him seem a little more erratic and bloodthirsty, Madeline had to admit it got her adrenaline running too.

"The guy with the chunk missing out of his hand, dumb looking idiot with funny eyes and black hair. Leave him alive so I can make him suffer first."

Charging in at full speed, Waylon knocked down the door to the Iceberg Lounge's main area, starling the thugs and patrons as splintered wood went flying. The Lounge had opened for business since Madeline had been thrown in with Waylon, and the startled guests began to run for their lives. Waylon get out a deafening roar and hurled a table across the room into a few patrons too slow to get out of the way. Penguin's men were quick to draw their weapons and opened fire, but the bullets could do no more than bruise Waylon's tough, impenetrable hide. Madeline clung onto his back, gripping the reptilian ridges in Waylon's back to hold on. This was exhilarating. She never would have imagined she would ride on the back of Killer Croc through a room of machine guns.

Waylon roared again, grabbing one of the thugs close to them and tossing him out the window, the man's screams disappearing as he flew. Waylon looked around for direction.

"Where is your friend?" He hissed, shielding his eyes with his arm to stop the bullets.

"I think she's in with Penguin, his office is over there." Madeline said quickly, pointing to the big, strong, double doors that had the most guards in front of it.

"Okay. Get off and hide behind something. I'll clear the room." Waylon snapped, and not a moment after Madeline's hands unlatched from his back, Killer Croc charged into the middle of the room, slashing and biting the thugs who dare try to stop him. Madeline scrambled behind an overturned desk and peered over the edge to watch.

Waylon, or rather, Killer Croc, was amazing to watch in action. He slashed with precision, his claws slicing through flesh, and his bites practically tore limb from limb. Blood splattered over the floor but no sooner did one body fall did another get torn apart. Then one of the thugs emerged with what looked like a rocket launcher. Madeline's eyes grew wide, and she looked over to Waylon who had not noticed it yet. Surely the rocket launcher would do some damage to him, maybe even kill him.

"Look out!" Madeline yelled, without even thinking that she might give away her position. Waylon turned just in time to put his arms up and brace for the blast.

It was loud and fiery, the whole room shaking from the explosion. Madeline shielded her eyes as furniture splintered and went flying in all directions. The windows shattered, littering the floor in shards of glass, and a few thugs lay dead as the smoke cleared. Madeline felt her heart in her throat.

"Please be okay, please be okay." She whispered to herself over and over again. She really wanted Waylon to be okay. He couldn't die, not now, not when she'd only just found him again. She'd always regretted not getting his number or something, or even offering to take him when he was obviously so miserable in the circus. She wished she had done something more for him six years ago, because since she met Waylon Jones, the crocodile wrestler from Haley's Circus, no one else she had ever met seemed good enough.

"Please be okay." She prayed, her eyes almost welling up.

The smoke cleared and a huge weight lifted from Madeline's chest. He was alive, burnt badly with flesh exposed on his arms and legs, but alive and very, very angry. A deafening roar once again and the man with the rocket launcher who was desperately trying to reload it, was torn to shreds and his left arm promptly consumed. It was kind of gross but all the action and adrenaline made it hard to dwell on.

"Alright that's enough!" A thug yelled, and Madeline was dragged from her hiding spot into the open, a gun to her head. Waylon stopped and glared at thug who was trembling, the gun rattling in Madeline's ear. Waylon growled and began to stalk forward, slowly at first but getting faster and more menacing, his teeth bared and his claws out, muscles rippling and ready to be used. The gun was moved to under Madeline's chin and the thug cocked it. As the gun made the satisfying click to tell the wielder it was ready to be used, Waylon stopped, but he maintained an aggressive stance and gave a low growl. They were the only three people left in the main room of the Iceberg Lounge, the air almost silent with the faint sound of police cars in the distance.

"Don't come near me or I'll blow her head off." The thug stuttered, sounding like a nervous little boy. Madeline recognised his voice, he was the thug from before, the one who had demanded sex and then thrown her away when she had refused. This guy was the asshole Madeline wanted to kill personally. But he wasn't the cocky thug anymore, he was shaking like a newborn lamb, terrified of the big bad crocodile.

Madeline couldn't help but laugh and smirk which only confused the thug more. He looked at her and then back at Waylon quickly, and then back and forth again, not sure which of them was going to act first.

"Why are you laughing?" He demanded, repositioning the gun to try and make Madeline more nervous. Unluckily for him Madeline knew she was the bargaining chip. She was the only reason Waylon hadn't ripped this guy to pieces, he wouldn't attack if there was a chance it would result in her death, which made Madeline kind of happy to realise.

"STOP LAUGHING! What's going on!"

"I'm sorry." Madeline giggled, still finding it hilarious. "It seems you are one unlucky son of a bitch." The thug looked even more confused as he darted his eyes between the two.

"What do you mean?" The thug asked, sounding like a paranoid junkie. "What's going on, why did he stop when I threatened your life? The monster get a heart or something?" Waylon growled at the insult and almost charged but managed to hold himself back. He watched Madeline closely, their eyes meeting as she silently begged him to ' _wait for his chance_ '.

"You were pissed off because I wouldn't sleep with you and threw me into a hole hoping the creature inside would dispose of me. What you didn't count on however," Madeline explained, a malicious grin of her own all over her face, "was that the so called ' _creature_ ' was a man, a man with history, a history that happens to include little ole me." The thug went as white as a sheet. Madeline knew she was exaggerating the truth, a brief encounter after a circus performance hardly counted as history, but the thug didn't know that.

"And when you consider our history, you could imagine just how angry you've made him by putting a gun in my face. Why, whether you kill me or not he's still going to eat you alive."

Madeline leaned a little closer to the thug, whispering in his ear.

"And I'll make sure he starts with your feet so it takes longer."

"ALRIGHT ALRIGHT! So what do I do? He'll kill me either way. If I'm going to die you gotta die too." The thug spluttered, sounding frantic and desperate. He might just get a bit trigger happy if Madeline didn't play her cards right.

"Indeed. But if you let me live, I'll give you a head start." Madeline said smugly, raising her eyebrows in an almost flirtatious manner. She always was good at dealing with people, even if she didn't always understand them.

The thug thought for a moment, his thought process sped up by another more aggressive growl from Waylon who looked itching to kill. There was something in his eyes though, another form of anger that was more than just primal rage. It was like this was personal, like they really did have history.

"Okay, deal." The thug muttered, slowly lowering the gun. Once it was lowered, Madeline lifted her arm to stop Waylon from charging, although the control she had over him was waning.

"Alright." She said calmly. "You can go."

The thug ran for it but the minute he lifted his leg to run Waylon was there, his clawed hand gripping the thugs neck tightly, so tightly the thug started to turn blue, dropping the gun.

"Easy now, don't I get a bit of revenge?" Madeline asked politely, and Waylon, to his credit, did loosen his grip, but only just enough.

"You said you'd give me a head start!" The thug wheezed, trying to pry Waylon's hand open but without success.

"Yep, and when you booked me and my friend for the evening you signed a contract that said you would not try to engage in or force sexual activity. But I guess we both lie huh?"

Madeline grabbed the thug by his hair and yanked his head back so she could peer into his eyes.

"You are one slimly motherfucker. You think you can do whatever you want just because you got muscles and power? Think you can force a girl to have sex with you? Why? Is it because you're so repugnant that you can't possibly get them on your own. Or do you just enjoy using those muscles and that power. Well, my good friend Croc here has more muscles, and more power than you, so I guess, by your logic at least, he can do whatever _he_ wants to _you_."

"What the hell! No! I'm sorry alright! I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking! I'd had one too many! Please, just please don't kill me! I'll disappear, I'll go away and Gotham will never see me again, you'll never see me again, I swear! Just please don't let this monster kill me!"

Madeline saw a tick in Waylon's forehead, it was taking everything he had to resist biting this thugs head off, but he was resisting so Madeline could exact her revenge, and he had to be enjoying the way the thug was squirming in fear.

"Monster? Oh no. He's not a monster. He's just a very angry man who wants to make you bleed." Madeline explained sinisterly, looking right into the thugs terrified, watery eyes. "You're the only monster here, and you'll get what's coming to you."

As Madeline turned, she heard a short scream and a crunch of bone, specifically the skull of the thug smashing into tiny pieces with a single, powerful bite. She felt like she was on cloud nine, it was such a rush acting like a criminal mastermind, being all theatrical and femme fatal, she felt like she could conquer the world. But she had no time for celebration, she had to see if Paula was okay.

The doors to Penguin's office were locked of course, but with one quick charge and a strong shoulder from Waylon, they broke down easily. Paula screamed as the massive crocodile charged into the room, and Madeline couldn't have been more happy to hear that scream. She hurried over to her friend who was crouched in the corner in her underwear, slightly bruised but otherwise okay.

"What happened. Did Penguin hurt you." Madeline asked frantically, the adrenaline from before gone and replaced with concern rival to that of a mother's love.

"Not really, he got mad when all the fighting started and hit me once, but then he escaped through a secret tunnel, I don't know where it is?" Paula explained, keeping her terrified brown eyes on Waylon who looked itching to leave.

"I can hear the police, they're here. I have to go." He grumbled. Madeline nodded and smiled.

"Thank you for helping us." She said, helping Paula to her feet.

"Don't mention it." Waylon said, about to leave, but something held him back. Madeline took the opportunity to make a bold and daring decision.

"Once this has died down a bit, come find me, we should get that drink I promised you. I think you defiantly deserve it."

"You know, I think I will." Waylon admitted with a cheeky grin, and then he disappeared.

Madeline turned to Paula who was shaking and looked very confused.

"Paula, we don't tell the police that he helped us okay. We say we were in here the whole time and heard fighting outside but we didn't know who was fighting who. Do you understand?"

Paula nodded but looked concerned.

"Why did he help you?" She asked, her brow furrowed. Madeline bit her lip.

"I'll tell you about later, right now let's just play victim and hope the cops give us a free ride home."


	4. Chapter 3

**Note: Imagine that the strip club is laid out like the Vanilla Unicorn in GTA5**

 **Chapter 3**

Waylon stalked through the sewers of Gotham, growling to himself as he followed them towards his destination. He had the whole sewer system mapped out in his head and knew which manhole covers came out next to which buildings. The jewellery store, the liquor store, the Iceberg Lounge, GCPD, the Wayne Tec building, Ace Chemicals, and even one system that lead to what remained of his usual exit out of Arkham Asylum. He did not know however, which ones came out at a strip club, and more specifically, which one came out at Madeline's strip club.

"' _Come fine me_ '." He grumbled in his best impression of a girl. "Like that helps. There are a million strip clubs in Gotham how am I supposed to know which one you're at." The annoying thing was he couldn't just check all of them and cross them off his list, he couldn't even get close without starting a panic. He had to get the right one the first time, otherwise the Batman would be chasing his ass all over Gotham and then he'd probably end up back in Arkham Asylum for more fun times with doctors and their needles.

The scales on his arms had grown back after the rocket launcher almost blew them up. As per usual with any regenerating injury, the scales had grown back more like that of a reptiles, harder and greener than ever before. If he went back into Arkham, he knew the same thing would happen again and they'd chop off another limb to watch it grow back more monstrous and put him another million miles away from ever being normal. But was that what he wanted. Did he want to be normal? He had never been completely normal before, he was born with god damn scales, but at least when he was younger, even before the circus, he _looked_ more human, and felt more human. However, he was pretty sure that his human side wanted to go back to being human, but the ever emerging monster side, the side that was Killer Croc, wanted him to delve deeper into depravity and become _more_ of a monster. It wanted him to give up on being human completely, surrender all aspects of humanity and retreat deeper into the sewers, or even go to a swamp somewhere and stay there forever. He didn't want that though, and because of recent events he found himself wanting that less and less, even from his Killer Croc side that seemed to go quiet when Madeline was around.

"Madeline." He whispered. She was like a breath of fresh air, a beacon of light, a symbol of hope or whatever other cliché metaphors he could think of. The point was, she was amazing, kind, gorgeous and best of all, wasn't afraid of him. Granted, she had looked scared when he'd growled at her and thought she was going to betray him, but otherwise she seemed perfectly comfortable around him, and he felt comfortable around her. Simply thinking about her as he moved through the sewers made him growl less and walk more upright rather than stalk. It was almost as if she restored his humanity, even in spirit, and that made her too special to just forget about. He couldn't forget about her, even though he secretly wanted to.

It did lurk in the back of his mind that he might, further down the line, loose himself to his animal side and if Madeline was near him when he did... He didn't want to hurt her, and if she was around him there was a chance he would hurt her. He had a choice to make, to be selfish or put Madeline first. No one ever put _him_ first but he had a feeling that Madeline would without question. Which was why the decision would be left up to him. Did he keep her around so he could perhaps retain a bit of his humanity, but run the risk of killing her when he lost himself and ending up an animal anyway. Or did he let her ago, retreat into the sewers and never see her again, that way he could never hurt her physically but end up an animal himself. It was such a hard decision to make, and as he stopped beneath a manhole cover and looked up, he felt himself torn in two. His Killer Croc side wanted him to keep Madeline close, and his human side wanted him to keep her away. It was odd that they'd chosen the sides that they did.

Waylon didn't know if this manhole cover was the right one, he knew there was a strip club outside it but whether or not that was the right strip club or not he had no clue. There was at least three clubs in Gotham that hired out to the big mob bosses like Penguin, and this was one of them. Waylon took a deep breath and pushed the manhole cover up and off the hole. He was hoping this would be the right one, but also praying that it wasn't.

Madeline kicked her leg as she turned sharply, one hand on the pole as she sashayed around it, a seductive smile on her face and a dangerous sway in her hips. She let herself fall, still holding onto the pole, swinging around with her hand out to the audience of men. There was a good mix tonight, slightly favouring the middle aged married men who were a girls favourite type of customer. The young guys were always cocky, wanted it all and didn't pay enough, and the old guys were just gross. The married men however, so bored with their home lives but still terrified that their wives would find out, asked for very little and paid a lot, a win win for everyone.

As she swung around, Madeline lifted her legs, holding herself up with her surprisingly strong arms and wrapped her legs around the pole. Then, she lifted herself up and ran her hands down her chest and stomach as she gripped onto the pole with her legs like a contortionist. It took a lot of practice to be this good, and only the best girls got to do the best jobs.

The audience cheered and tossed their dollars, not as exciting to Madeline as it was to them but all the same she smiled greedily at their pathetic gestures. Reaching up into her hair, she flicked it around and shook her head like a wild party girl, before holding the pole with both hands and letting herself slide slowly to the base of the platform. As she did so, she unlatched her legs and let them slide open to a V shape on the ground. She lurched forward onto her hands and knees, her ass stuck in the air as she clawed forward like a cat towards the money and one man in particular who looked drunk enough to spend his entire life savings on one night.

She leant over the gap between the platform and the audience. Reaching out, she grabbed the guy by his loose tie and pulled him over the barrier. He was giggling like a drunken school boy who had just seen boobs for the first time, and his eyes were glazed over with excitement and ecstasy.

"You wanna dance?" She asked in her most seductive voice. It was fun being the seductive temptress, but like the femme fatal from the Iceberg Lounge it was just an act, a fun one, but still only an act.

"Oh yeah, you're hot." The drunk man slurred, the most charming line in the history of flirting.

"Then why don't you go ask the big boss man over there and I can come down and give you a good time." Madeline said, pointing in the direction of the club floor manager. Madeline wanted to get off the pole now, and if she got a request for a private dance she could get off early. However, as the drunk man staggered over to the manager, he got distracted by a girl walking by and started following her around like a lost pup. Madeline gritted her teeth and cursed under her breath, another half an hour on the pole to go.

She pushed herself into a kneeling position and then stood up with her hands on her thighs, pushing her ass out as she did so in one clean swoop. She proceeded to dance, reusing the moves from before that the drunken admirers had no doubt forgotten about, but then the manager waved her over. Her eyes lit up, finally, she could get off the damn pole. With a cute wink and a quick wave, she sauntered off back down the runway and through the curtains. As fast as humanly possible in high heels, she hurried around the corner, through the dressing room and back out onto the floor.

"What's up?" She asked as she adjusted her bra. Today she was wearing green and black, partly because it helped with the Poison Ivy and Harley Quin due she had with Paula, and partly because it was the first thing she saw in the dressing room.

"Do you have a next of kin?" He asked, looking very stern and worried. Madeline was a little taken aback.

"What? Why? I mean, yeah I guess it's my mother, but she doesn't live in Gotham so maybe Paula."

"Good, if anything happens to you I will leave all your possessions to Paula."

"What are you talking about? Planning on murdering me?" Madeline asked, putting her hands on her hips and peering down at the short man who was acting very different compared to normal.

"You got a request for a private dance." The manager began to explain, sounding like he was breaking the most terrible news in the history of terrible news. "A criminal, a _big_ criminal. They are kind of unstable so if they flip out they might..."

"Kill me?" Madeline finished, but she wasn't worried, she had a small inclining as to who this _big_ criminal was.

"I would ask one of the other girls but he pointed you out and request you specifically." The manager explained, looking really sad at the prospect of Madeline being killed. At least she die knowing her boss valued her work.

"He's a monster." The manager added, shivering in repulsion. Madeline scowled at him, if it was who she thought it was, then her manager was being a rude asshole. Waylon wasn't a monster, sure he looked like one, but he wasn't an _actual_ monster.

"I'm sure you're over reacting. I'll be fine. I always am. I escaped from that disaster at the Iceberg Lounge last month, I think I can manage one lap dance.

"Okay, but if you die, I'll make sure you get a good funeral." The manager said solemnly, resting his hand on Madeline's shoulder and trying not to cry.

Madeline turned and headed towards the private lap dance booths in the back where the more prominent citizens of Gotham had their fun. She couldn't help but have a skip in her step. Finally, after a month of waiting, Waylon had finally shown up. She didn't quite know what she wanted to do with him. Maybe just talk, maybe do more. She didn't quite understand her own feelings for him, did she like him as a friend, someone to talk to about how life is a bitch, or as something more. The prospect of _something more_ was weird to think about since there was no avoiding the fact he was a giant crocodile man and a cannibalistic criminal to boot. However, there was something about him, something that she couldn't quite figure out, something that made her want it to be something more, despite their obvious physiological differences.

She was about to open the curtain but then decided to be more playful. She leg her leg peek through and a chuckle was received from the other side. Then, she ran her hand up her leg, opening the Curtin as she did so but turning around so he couldn't see her face. She stood there and slid her hands from her hips, up her stomach and over her breasts, up her neck and into her hair before taking a big, seductive gasp, like a climax had been reached, and peeked over her shoulder.

The moment their eyes met, her stomach clenched, her knees went weak, her arms heavy, and she began to shiver. It was not a crocodile sitting in that chair expecting a lap dance. It was a clown.

 **Sorry its a bit short but THAT PLOT TWIST. What will happen to Madeline?**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Madeline felt her body shake, almost as if she were about to seizure. It was him. It was the clown. It was Joker, _The Joker_ , the clown prince of crime and scourge of Gotham, Batman's arch nemesis.

"Hello missy," Joker said, clasping his hands together and leaning back in the chair, his legs outstretched. "You're the lucky girl who gets to party with me tonight." Madeline was speechless, she had no clue what to say or do. How did she respond. She was not prepared for this, no one could be prepared for this. Waylon was a cannibalistic reptile, but that was like an innocent kitten in comparison to the Joker.

He had killed countless innocence, blown up hospitals just for fun, and practically dedicated his entire life to fighting Batman in some messed up kind of hate love bromance way. But there was something wrong with him, he didn't look well. Madeline had heard about the carnage at Arkham Asylum a year ago when Joker had taken over. There was something mentioned about Joker becoming a monster or something similar to Bane, but Madeline had only heard fragmented reports. His skin was still as pale as ever, and his lips ruby red, but there were scabs and open sores all over his face, and his manic eyes looked dark and tired.

"Oh forgive me." Joker gasped, clutching his face with his purple gloved hands. "I didn't get a chance to make myself beautiful this morning. But you know what they say, beauty is only skin deep, but luckily for me, mine seems to be coming off." His grin was malicious and full of evil intent. His voice fluxuating between high pitch and humorous with a manic laugh, to deep and sinister with an evil, low chuckle. He was insane, everyone knew that, but more importantly, he was evil, pure and actual evil.

"Well come on doll face." He said, coughing a little and patting his lap. "Didn't a pay for a dance." Madeline wanted to protest, ran away, say or do something, anything! But she was stuck, frozen still in fear, petrified of the situation placed before her. Her stillness and silence made Joker scowl at her, his red lipped, ear to ear smile turning into a downturned grimacing snarl.

"Don't make me mad." He warned, his toxic eyes dark and cold. Madeline snapped into action, sauntered forward as fast as she could and straddled herself over his lap, her body stiff and awkward as if it had been frozen and she'd only just started to thaw out.

"That's more like it." Joker beamed enthusiastically, his smile back and his tone much lighter. He switched between the two almost seamlessly, and it made him seem even more unpredictable. This was one occasion where Madeline would not protest to Batman interrupting, and she'd even give the flying rodent a kiss in thanks.

What was Joker even doing here. He had a girlfriend didn't he, Harley Quinn was stunning and totally devoted to him. She'd do anything and everything he'd ask, any time he asked for it, and free of charge. Why run the risk of getting caught by Batman or the GCPD by coming to a strip club full of various people of different positions and allegiances when he could have fun in the safety of his own home. Besides, he looked really sick, and the occasionally coughing fit only made it seem like home was the only place he could be, that or a hospital. He needed a drip or something, medical attention, and since Harley Quinn had been a doctor, all be it a physiatrist, furthermore supporting the argument that he should be with her and not Madeline.

As she danced and swayed her hips, lightly pressing into Joker while at the same time trying to pull herself away from him, she felt like she would faint at any moment. What she wouldn't give for a giant crocodile with a mouthful of teeth to burst into the room at any moment and rip the clown to pieces. She had never been so scared in her life, but she couldn't help but watch Joker's reactions from time to time whilst trying to avoid eye contact. He didn't act like most men did during a lap dance. Most men drooled with desire and tried to touch her whenever they could. They would lean in to kiss or to caress, get rejected of course, and sit in frustration with the zipper of their pants straining.

Not Joker though. He didn't try to touch her, even though they both knew she wouldn't protest for fear of getting killed. He didn't drool with desire, and he didn't have the body language of a man fighting an urge to have sex. He just watched her dance, every movement, every thrust and turn, every curve and line of her body, and he seemed to chuckle lightly as he did, a big grin on his face. It was as if he was enjoying her fear and not the display itself. The bumps on his skin, beads of sweat and shaking hands were as entertaining to him as tits and ass were to the average patron. He was revelling in Madeline's fear of him, in the fear of death, he was enjoying the power he held over her. ' _Every man to his own I guess_ ' Madeline thought to herself, biting her lip as she turned around.

"Facing me please." Joker ordered in his sterner voice, and Madeline turned around immediately and resumed the dance she had been doing before. She dared not defy him, she would do anything he asked no matter how humiliating it was, she'd do it all so long as he didn't kill her. The people Joker killed personally, up close and not just in an explosion he caused, always died in horrific ways. They always had a forced smile on their face, just like Joker's, usually caused by a gas or toxin he used. It was horrible when they showed the face in the news. The tortured eyes, the pained look in them, and that manic smile.

Suddenly, Joker's hand landed on the small of Madeline's back and the other on her left thigh, freezing her in place. She half expected an electrocution from a hidden zapper in his sleeve, or for gas to pour out of the flower pinned to his jacket. But it didn't, and instead Joker yanked her down so she was sat on him, their bodies pressed together and both utterly still. Madeline didn't dare move, her hands fixed against her side, her legs off the ground, her heart racing and her chest rising and falling at top speed. She wanted to faint and wake up somewhere else, somewhere far away from Joker and everything he was. Even if he killed when she did so, at least she'd be unconscious for it and not know the exact moment she died.

Then she felt Joker move his hand from her thigh to his pocket, and she peered down to watch his gloved hand slip inside. The pocket hadn't looked like it had anything in it, but knowing Joker it probably had a concealed weapon of mass destruction that would turn her body inside out or something, forcing her to laugh hysterically as her lungs collapsed, as her heart stopped, as her brain melted into goo. A number of things raced through her mind, a mix of real and sci-fi fantasy weapons she'd read in comics. She imagined all the horrible ways she could die, and all the horrible ways her body could be disposed of. She might never be found, her body left to rot somewhere and get eaten by rats. Maybe they'd find her a few weeks later, her body and pretty face already decomposing and deformed, unidentifiable, and with no around to claim it she would be buried or cremated as a Jane Doe, forgotten about like so many others or labelled as just another dead stripper.

Her mind wondered to thoughts about how no one would really miss her. Paula was her friend but they were friends because of work, not because they had any real connection. Her mother hadn't spoken to her in since she'd moved to Gotham when she was seventeen, and her little brother was probably too young to remember her now. The only person she could think about missing her even the slightest bit was Waylon, and that was if they shared similar feelings. For all she knew he had no interest in her what so ever, but if he did care, if he did see her as something more than just another human, she hoped upon her death he would roar with carnal rage, and go on a rampage until he had hunted Joker down and torn the clown limb from limb.

She had thought about it when Waylon had almost been killed by the rocket launcher, but hadn't done anything when she'd found out he was okay. She wished she had done something, said something even. But no, she hadn't done anything, just like at Haley's Circus six years ago, all she'd done was offer a drink.

Waylon almost lost it when he broke down the door to the private room of the strip club and found Madeline on Joker's lap, their bodies pressed together. His eyes wanted to glaze over with red and send him on a rampage, to tear Joker limb from limb, but his fear of hurting Madeline as well as his fear of Joker stopped him. He did however, roar and snap his jaws aggressively, tearing down one of the curtain rails and tossing a chair across the room. The minute he did so Madeline leaped away from Joker and ran towards Waylon.

He hadn't expected this reaction, and froze up when Madeline's arms wrapped around his waist and her body pressed against his. She was practically naked in her skimpy green lingerie, her soft pale skin so smooth against his hardened scales. She looked beautiful, so hot and sexy that he found himself fighting an uphill battle with his manhood to keep it down due to the fact that their height difference put Madeline's perky breasts right against his crotch.

Moving Madeline behind him and shielding her with his body, he kept his eyes on Joker who was grinning his horrible grin with one eyebrow raised out of curiosity. Waylon hated Joker, he was a horrible clown who pestered every criminal in Gotham and every plan Joker concocted, every scheme or villainous intention affected all of them, and nine times out of ten it did not _help_ any of them either. Waylon had worked for Joker once, although he'd thought he was Black Mask at the time. This was when he was relatively new in Gotham and had only run into Batman a few times, usually escaping before Batman could capture him. Because of Joker, Waylon had confronted Batman on the rooftop of Blackgate Prison, and after a long fight, got his ass handed to him. This had caused the GCPD to throw him into Arkham Asylum instead of back in Blackgate, and thus started the experiments that caused Waylon's condition to spiral out of control.

The moment he had found out that it wasn't Sionis behind the mask but the deranged and unpredictable Joker, Waylon had wanted nothing more than to smash the clowns face into the concrete. But over the years with every crime Joker committed, every act of unprecedented violence and insanity, every single manic fit of laughter, every snide comment or stupid Joke through the walls of Arkham Asylum and every attempt to make all the criminals in Gotham take part in his showy little traps to capture but eventually fail to beat the Batman had made Waylon even angrier but ultimately stopped him from killing the clown once and for all. Joker was terrifyingly unpredictable, and despite being physically like everyone else, had crippled Gotham and brought it to its knees time and time again. While in theory Waylon could snap Joker like a twig or rip his smiling face off, there was always a strong possibility that somehow Joker would stop it from happening, or survive to exact his own twisted form of revenge, and now that it was obvious Madeline was in Waylon's life, he knew she'd be the perfect way to punish any of his wrong doings.

Joker, who was still grinning, clutched at his chest and gasped, faking a heart attack in a dramatic fashion. He lurched forward and backwards as he did so, half fake wailing in pain and half laughing.

"Oh the rejection." He cried, kicking his legs up and swinging them over the side of the chair. He put the back of his hand against his forehead and feigned a dramatic death. "I got croc blocked. Ahahahaha!" He laughed is head off at the terrible play on words, and Waylon growled at the sociopathic clown. Madeline was pressed against the left side of Waylon's back, clutching at the ridges on his back, her soft hands shaking as she held him for comfort. She was terrified of the clown, even more so than normal people were of Killer Croc. It somewhat made Waylon feel a little bit warmer to know that she was looking to him for protection. It was rare that someone would choose him as the safer option to anything, then again, it was The Joker.

"Relax Croc ole boy. I won't hurt your little girlfriend." Joker sighed, getting to his feet and reaching into his pocket. Madeline immediately moved all the way behind Waylon and he braced himself for whatever weapon or device was going to be used on him. Joker had a mixed arsenal of various weapons that did various, horrible things to his victims. He was strong, he could take it, even Scarecrow's fear toxin required a large dosage to have an effect on him, and Poison Ivy's toxins didn't work either, not that Ivy had ever tried to administer them through her kiss with _him_.

Joker grabbed something in his pocket and pulled it out. To everyone's surprise, it wasn't a weapon or device, it was a $100 bill.

"I was just going to give her a tip." He said casually, and began walking towards them. He offered the note with an outstretched hand, but Madeline stayed behind Waylon, too scared to move. Waylon wouldn't let her come out either, and glared at Joker who sighed as he pocketed the money.

"Fine." He said with a roll of the eyes. "I'll give you a tip instead." Joker walked right up alongside Waylon's left side, facing the other direction. Waylon moved Madeline to his right side so she was as far away from Joker as possible. Joker wasn't grinning anymore, and had an expression of concerned despair. His whole demeanour was different too, almost normal.

"Keep the people you care about as far away from you as possible, push them away if you have to." Joker said in the most normal and sane voice Waylon had ever heard the clown speak in. "Because the closer they are, the more likely you will fall, and trust me, when that happens, _they_ will fall further."

 **Sorry it's been a while. Big shout out to Yvash on deviantart for the joke (can't stop laughing at it), love the artwork.**

 **I will endeavour to keep up to date with this story but I might not update for about a week since I'm going to be busy with other things.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"You aren't working there anymore!" Waylon growled as he dragged Madeline through the sewers by the arm. His long strides made it hard for Madeline to keep up and she had to run or risk falling flat on her face into the sewage. He hadn't even given her time to grab her coat or handbag, dragging her off the minute Joker had left. Now that they were far away from that terrifying clown Madeline could focus all her energy on the fact that there was grimy sewage water up to her knees and she was walking through the dirtiest tunnels in nothing but lingerie.

"You can't tell me what to do. What are you, my boyfriend?" Madeline snapped, trying to get her arm loose but to no avail. Waylon had a firm grip on her and wasn't going to let her go until they reached wherever it was they were going, and that seemed like a million miles away considering how long they had been walking.

"It's dangerous for you there." Waylon grumbled, turning a corner so sharply that Madeline almost went flying.

"I've been dealing with that since I started there. Sure it's the first time _he's_ been there but I've dealt with other crime bosses before and aside from that thing with Penguin's thugs it's been fine."

"That's not the point. _He_ knows you're there now, _that_ puts you in danger."

"How? I'm nothing special." Madeline hissed, practically yelling, and yanked her arm out from Waylon's grip. "Besides, he looked like he was dying and I'm sure he has some spectacular way of doing that planned. Probably a convoluted plan that involves Batman and lots of people dying just for the lolz."

Madeline folded her arms and shivered. It was cold in the sewers, and the stench made her nose wrinkle. This was not a very nice place to take a lady.

"He knows about us." Waylon explained despondently, trying to be reasonable and somehow justify dragging Madeline into the dark and smelly sewers. Madeline furrowed her brow.

"Us? What ' _us'_? I wasn't even aware there was an ' _us'_." Madeline exclaimed, confused and a little alarmed. Were they an ' _us_ '? Did Waylon want them to be an ' _us_ '?

"That's not what a mean." Waylon grumbled, and Madeline felt her heart sink a little. "I saved you from him, so that means I'll save you again."

"Oh I get it." Madeline spat. "I'm a liability. Joker saw me run into your arms for safety so he, and every other villain going by how fast word travels in this city, will automatically decided to us _me_ to get you to do whatever they want. Think Batman will snatch me up, put me in Arkham and say ' _good Croc, fetch boy_ '?" Waylon growled very loudly and snapped his jaws but Madeline didn't flinch. He wouldn't hurt her, but she had no qualms with hurting him, at least a little bit to show how angry she was.

It was insulting that he saw her as a liability, even worse, that he dared to hint at some form of a relationship between them, a friendship at the very least, and then deny it without hesitation. Sure, they hadn't really know each other long enough to warrant a relationship, heck, they'd only been in contact with one another for a grand total of twelve hours spanning over six years, but surely they had a connection, chemistry, something. Or had it all been in Madeline's head, had she just fantasised a connection with Waylon that wasn't there due to some strange perversion for reptiles stemming from not having a father around.

Waylon was still growling, but he had stopped snapping at least. Madeline sighed.

"I'm sorry, it's just..." She explained, but the words were lost to her. "Look I'm cold, half naked and it sinks down here. Can I please just go home?" Waylon looked away and seemed to be thinking long and hard on his answer. Madeline watched his yellow eyes get distracted by a trickle of water dribbling from a pipe and into the water, the sound louder because of the echo.

"In a bit." He said quietly, still watching the water. "I have to take you somewhere first." He turned and look at Madeline in the eyes. It was the first time they had actually made eye contact since that brief moment six years ago and Madeline instantly felt a spark. But did he feel it too, or was it one sided. His eyes looked sad, as if she had really hurt his feelings. She felt really guilty about it and wanted to apologise, but she didn't want to break the silence and eye contact with words.

"It's not far." Waylon muttered quietly, turning to continue through the sewer at a slow pace, breaking the eye contact. Madeline sighed and looked down at the dirty water. She should have said something.

He should have said something. He knew he should have said something other than ' _it's not far_ '. Anything would have been better than that. But no, he had gotten all upset and pathetic looking and said ' _it's not far_ ' instead of ' _I'm fucking crazy about you_ '. Madeline had looked upset, really upset and very pissed off with him for suggesting that she was a liability. She wasn't a liability, she was a weakness, a weakness anyone could exploit. If she was captured and used as bait, he would blindly charge after her to rescue her, even if it was Batman and he'd put her in Arkham, he'd break down the front gate to get to her. Why couldn't he say that? Why couldn't he tell her that she was the most amazing person he had ever met? Why couldn't he tell her that he liked her, that he felt like they had a connection. Sure they hadn't really spent much time together, but there was chemistry like he had never experienced before, and he was making the most beautiful, sexy and feisty woman he had ever met walk half naked through the sewers.

"Great job Croc, you really know how to charm a woman." He muttered to himself.

They arrived at the end of the tunnel and out at the Gotham river, the sewage water a mere trickle into the black depths. Madeline, who was shivering like a leaf from the cold night air, hugged her body tightly, her delicate arms and legs covered in goosebumps. He grumbled and thought for a bit. He couldn't make her jump in the water and swim like this.

"Wait here." He said, and without waiting for her to respond dived into the water. He swam straight down into the depths as far as possible. The water was freezing by human standards but didn't bother his scaly hide one bit. It was nice to be swimming in open water again, so much space to move about and it didn't stink.

Once at the bottom he turned around and pushed off, propelling himself upwards faster than any shark could. As he broke the surface of the water he leaped into the air, past a somewhat startled Madeline and onto the top of the pipe. He extended his arm down, grabbing Madeline's hand when she took his, and pulled her up quickly. He could have easily climbed up from the pipe itself but he wanted to show off. Sadly, Madeline was a little too cold to be entertained and shivered even more when the wind hit her once they had climbed up onto the walkway of the port.

Waylon became very concerned when Madeline started turning blue and instinctively put his arms around her. She was freezing cold, and his body heat wouldn't do much good since he was somewhat cold blooded. He looked around to see if anyone was watching them, and once he concluded it was all clear, he scooped the shivering Madeline into his arms. He held her close as he ran around the outskirts of the port, checking each corner before he turned and making sure to stay out of the light. He didn't want anyone calling the police, or worse, the Batman, upon seeing him, especially if they saw him carrying a very cold and seemingly unconscious girl. It would look bad. Sure, Waylon was bad, he was a criminal after all, but he wasn't _that_ bad.

Once they had gotten away from the main buildings of the port and to the storage warehouses, he slowed down and counted the numbers. They were numbered 1 to 10, and his was number 9 right next to the remains of number 10 that had been destroyed in a fight between Batman and Bane. Waylon had been sleeping in warehouse 9 when the fight had happened and been woken by the sound of crashing metal and loud splashing as the jacked up on venom Bane wreaked havoc a little too close to comfort. Bane was as big as Waylon was, but twice as smart, and once upon their first encounter, Bane had snapped both of Waylon's arms and left him for dead. His arms had healed of course, stronger and faster, but like all times his body healed, it made him a little bit more of an animal.

The lights were off at most of the warehouses and under the cover of darkness Waylon snuck inside, locking the door behind him. He gently let Madeline stand and quickly found a blanket of some sort to toss on her. It was a big blanket and covered the poor girl head to toe like a tent. Madeline shrugged it off and examined the orange fabric.

"Is this an Arkham Asylum shirt?" She asked, reading the black lettering on the back that did indeed read _Arkham Asylum_. He had forgotten about that shirt from his last escape and was surprised that it was still intact, usually he tore the shirts into tiny pieces.

Madeline pulled the shirt over herself, tying it in a knot so it hung at her knees instead of trailing on the ground. The shoulders were too big so one side slid off, exposing Madeline's shoulder. Waylon had to turn around and try not to look. Why did she look so good in his oversized baggy clothing? It was making it difficult to not rip the clothing off and ' _attack_ ' her.

"Can I please go home now?" Madeline asked as she rubbed her arms to keep warm. The warehouse wasn't particularly well acclimatised. In summer it was like the devils oven, and in winter it was colder than Mr Freeze's suit. Waylon looked around for something else to give Madeline to keep her warm. He didn't have much to fill the warehouse, an old tattered couch that had been somewhat crushed under his size, a television, an empty fridge, a collection of boxes full of useless junk he'd collected, a stack of DVDs, most of which were scratched beyond repair.

Waylon bit his lip as he looked around, he didn't even have so much as a blanket. What had he done to keep warm when he'd first moved in here, back when he was a bit more human.

"Well, can I leave? Or are you going to keep me here against my will." Madeline asked, putting her shivering hand on her hip and cocking her head to the side. Even when freezing she was still feisty. Waylon shook his head.

"You can't go back. Not yet. Just in case someone comes for you." He explained, not really sure why he was so determined to keep her in his warehouse. Maybe the danger was all in his head as an excuse to keep her at his place, to keep her close and in sight. She was beautiful to look at after all.

"So I'm your prisoner then?" She said with a cheeky grin. That was all Waylon could manage and he quickly walked over to the boxes to rummage around and look busy, making sure to face away from Madeline so she couldn't see the strain in his pants. He had to keep it under wraps, his animalistic side was very close to his sexual side, both liked to intertwine with one another. Like a deadly dance of fire and gasoline, one would set the other alight, and Madeline had such beautiful, flawless skin.

"If someone wanted to capture me, they wouldn't do it tonight. They'd wait until further down the line, or at least tomorrow when I'm at work." Madeline theorised as she plopped herself down on the couch, pulling her arms inside of the shirt to retain warmth. "You planning on keeping me here forever?"

"If I have to." Waylon grumbled, moving random items from box to box.

"You're not that smart are you?" Madeline said flatly without missing a beat. Waylon didn't know whether or not to feel a little annoyed or to laugh. It was true though, he wasn't smart, he was actually quite stupid when he thought about it, which was very rare. His condition, or rather, the way people treated him because of his condition, had caused him to drop out of school early, that combined with frequent trips to juvenile hall and travelling around with the circus, there had been no time for books, only the bench press.

"You can't have brains _and_ have guns like these?"

Waylon flexed his left arm, showing off his massive biceps. Madeline giggled and bit her lower lip, an action that certainly didn't help with his _arising_ problem.

"Good." She said, a response that surprised Waylon. "I don't like smart guys. I prefer to be the smartest one in the room."

"Oh yeah. And why is that?" He asked, peeking over his shoulder to see Madeline leaning over the back of the couch, her head resting on her arms.

"Because, if they aren't that smart all I have to do is bat my eyelids and they'll do anything I say and follow me to the end of the world."

Waylon prayed Madeline wouldn't look at his pants and bravely turned around to walk over to the couch and slump down on it. The thud made Madeline bounce a little to which she giggled that cute giggle of hers.

"I'm sure any guy, no matter how smart would follow _you_ to the end of the world." He said in a voice that had never left his lips before. He hadn't even realised he'd said it until the words were out there, and even then it didn't feel like he had said them at all. Was this flirting? Madeline seemed to have not heard it, or at least pretend to not hear it, and looked over at the stack of DVDs.

"What do you have over here." She asked, moving over to the DVDs and crouching down, the shirt covering her completely. Waylon had made her walk through the sewer in nothing but her underwear less than half an hour ago, but now he wanted to see the shirt rise up just enough to show a little bit of her thong, just a teaser. Why was that so much sexier than just underwear?

"Wow." Madeline gasped, sitting up with shock. "You have a lot of pornos here." Waylon felt himself go pale. He had totally forgotten that he owned way over the healthy limit of porn DVDs, and that they were all over in that stack, one of them in Madeline's hand. Had been a teenage girl he would have buried his head in a pillow and never come out, as a giant crocodile monster he wanted to bury is head in a pillow and never come out.

"Wow, some of these titles are creative." Madeline exclaimed, picking up several of the DVDs and reading the titles out loud as she flicked through them. "Katty and the Ct scan, Breastinspector Rex, and... Oh my god. Madam Secretary and _Internal_ affairs. These are the best. But why so many?" Waylon looked at her, one eyebrow raised and his eyes wide. Did she really need to ask that? Madeline must have heard his thoughts because she realised the reason herself, accepted it, and gently put the DVDs down.

Still shivering, she hurried back over to the couch and curled up with her arms, legs and head inside of the shirt like a little orange ball of cotton.

"You know you gotta let me go home in the morning." She said through the fabric of the shirt that was covering her nose.

"Maybe." Waylon said with a grin, one that Madeline hadn't seen.

"Oh yeah. You going to stop me?" Madeline said, popping her head out of the shirt to peer at Waylon. Her eyes looked like those of a mischievous cat wanting to play a deadly game. Waylon smirked. If they were going to play catch he would surely win. Then again, Madeline was small and quick, perhaps she would prove to be a handful.

Madeline didn't make a dart for the door, instead she stared into Waylon's eyes, an action that was quite unexpected. He stared back, frozen still but as happy as he could be. She was beautiful. Her eyes were so wild yet also regal, like a stolen gem from a Queens Crown held in the claws of an animal deep in the heart of a swamp, tainted ever so slightly by the wildness of the world around it, yet still so amazingly beautiful. He liked the colour green for obvious reasons, but Madeline's eyes, that bright and vibrant colour was certainly his favourite shade.

Then, just as he was thinking about how beautiful Madeline was, the beautiful girl in question darted off the couch, making a beeline for the door. She was quick but Waylon was faster, Madeline was human after all, and with one long reach he wrapped his arm around the escapees waist and pulled her back. Madeline spun around and almost fell backwards, but Waylon instinctively reached out to catch her just in time, holding her above the ground like a damsel, their faces dangerously close as the world went silent.

Neither of them moved. Neither of them made a sound. They just froze in time, and yet time seemed irrelevant in this moment. They were so close. Waylon's arms around Madeline slender body, their noses almost touching, the scent of Madeline's minty breath filling Waylon's nostrils and sending pleasurable shivers across his body. Their lips were close too. Madeline's perfectly shaped, juicy pink lips so close to Waylon's crooked jaw of jagged teeth. His heart was pounding like a war drum, his head empty of all thought yet racing with ideas. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her and never let their lips part.

He would throw her down onto the couch and pin her down with his body, careful not to crush her as they passionately kissed, their tongues and lips a mess of flesh and saliva. He would caress her body and help her shrug that shirt off so he could rip the bra and panties off with his teeth. He would kiss and lick her all the way up her stomach, tease and tantalise her as he fumbled with his own zipper. He would explore her body, every inch and curve, every single part of her body would be used to give her pleasure; her ears, her feet, her fingers, her nipples, her neck. He would give her pleasure, taste her in a way he had never tasted a woman before, and once she was begging for more, he would pull her up onto his lap, thrust inside of her and they would climax as one.

Waylon pulled Madeline to her feet and let go, letting go off his thoughts, and letting go of his desires. It was too risky. He could venture into his animalistic side and playful nips would turn into bites, and licks of pleasure would becomes tasting sessions. But more importantly, his ideas were probably not what Madeline wanted. She would probably be repulsed by the idea, push him away or scream for help. The last thing he wanted was Batman showing up to see a half naked and terrified girl screaming for help in Waylon's warehouse.

They both stood there in silence once again, Madeline awkwardly fumbling with the fabric of the shirt, looking rather hot and flustered for someone who had been shivering moments ago. Waylon looked away and scratched the back of his neck. The room felt tense and heavy, what he wouldn't give for a distraction right about now.

"I... Err..." He stuttered.

"Yes." Madeline said eagerly, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. What was she hoping for?

"I'm going to go and get you a blanket or something to keep you warm." Waylon explained, choosing the first idea that came into his head and when he spoke, Madeline's eager eyes faded a little, as if she had just been let down. What had she been hoping he'd say. A confession of love? No. No way. No way could a beautiful girl like Madeline want that from him, he was imagining things, there was no change in her eyes, only his mind playing tricks on him to wind him up into Killer Croc mode.

"Oh, right." Madeline said, nervously laughing as she did so. She looked down and Waylon turned to leave. Just as Waylon was about to shut the door behind him, Madeline grabbed his arm and stopped. He didn't turn but he did look over his shoulder at the stunning woman holding his arm in her delicate hands. She looked determined to say something, as if she were about to confess a deep secret of hers of upmost importance. But again, her hopeful eyes faded to disappointed ones and she let go of his arm, but she did smile at him.

"Maybe while you're out, you could get us some booze so we can finally have that drink?"

 **Things are getting steamy up in here! But alas, no dice, and neither one of them made a move. Will they ever hook up? I certainly hope so considering I am amazing at writing sexy scenes, especially with non-human characters. And don't worry, the next chapter will continue on from this scene, no skipping to a week later like I usually do. Maybe something will happen when they're drunk? Who knows. Find out next time.**


	7. Chapter 6

**Just to highlight, Waylon isn't a schizophrenic or anything, I just describe his animal side and his human side as Killer Croc and Waylon Jones. I also apologise for this chapter, it is kind of an emotional filler so we can get to see a bit of Waylon's backstory and a sneak peek of his Killer Croc side. It was a necessary chapter and I'm not entirely happy with it but if I don't submit it now then I'll never finish it so, please enjoy as best you can and I promise the next chapter will have a bit more action in it and a lot less emotions, inner thoughts and relationship building.**

 **Chapter 6**

Madeline punched the steel wall of the warehouse, and then regretted that action as her hand started to throb. She began to regret that little outburst, along with everything else that had happened that evening, or rather, everything that _hadn't_ happened. Why didn't she kiss him, he was right there, so close to her face she could have reached him with her tongue. He'd caught her and swept her around as if they were dancing and with the big finale came the big final kiss where the audience would cheer as the star-crossed lovers finally embraced But they hadn't kissed. He'd straightened up, let her go, and then disappeared to find the world's most elusive blanket

If she _had_ kissed him however, would he have kissed her back, or recoiled in shock, all the chemistry Madeline felt between them turning out to be a figment of her imagination. That couldn't be it though, there had to be something between them, something they _both_ felt. After all, Waylon had saved her from Joker right at the last second, even if it did turn out that she hadn't been in danger in the first place. Plus, he was so determined to keep her in his warehouse for the night and to keep her safe from anyone that might harm her. She had accused him of seeing her as a liability, but what if he _did_ see her as a weakness, something that could be used against him by people like Penguin or Batman even. Would he blindly run after her into the middle of Arkham Asylum despite the risks just to save her. If he would, then she must have really hurt him with that comment she made back in the sewers.

Now that she was thinking about that conversation in the sewers, she realised he might actually be interested in her in the same way she was interested in him after all. He hadn't denied it when she accused him of acting like her boyfriend, not really. In fact, her accusation was probably the reason he _hadn't_ acted when he'd been given every opportunity to do so. He probably thought Madeline had no interest in him, that she saw him in the same way that everyone else did, or at least saw him as a friend and not a potential lover. Furthermore, he had made that dreamy comment in the most surprisingly flirtatious voice she'd ever heard with very minimal growling undertones compared to normal.

"' _I'm sure any guy, no matter how smart would follow you to the end of the world_ '." Madeline whispered, the words stinging her tongue when she remembered he'd said that beautiful and oh so charming line after she'd called him an idiot. Madeline laughed at the idea that out of the self isolating, cannibalistic criminal Killer Croc and a party going stripper, _she_ was the socially awkward one. That one line, was it the most obvious sign from the heavens that Waylon was interested in her, or was she reading into it too much, or was she _trying_ to read into it too much. It was then that Madeline realised she hadn't really examined at her feelings for Waylon, not really. She'd only thought about if _he_ was interested in her, and never considering discovering for herself if _she_ was interested in _him_.

Sure, she found herself attracted to him, but she wasn't quite sure what it was about him that made her see past the scales and spikes, the deadly claws and a mouth full of teeth, or was it that she had simply discovered she had a strange fetish for reptiles. No, that couldn't be it, because when she looked at him she didn't really see a giant crocodile monster, she saw a man, a very depressed and angry man with the most emotionally conveying eyes she'd ever witnessed. As well as that, he was built like a tank and Madeline was not ashamed to admit she preferred her men with more muscles than brain, but surely they couldn't be the only reasons. Then Madeline realised something, for all the chemistry they had, or at least she _thought_ they had, and all those moments when they're eyes would meet and the world would stop turning, she knew absolutely nothing about him. She didn't know his middle name, his parents, where he had been born and grew up, where he went to school, his favourite colour, the name of his first pet. None of it, she knew nothing about his personal life other than Haley's Circus.

If she asked him about it, tried to get him to open up and tell her all his secrets, would he do it, or would he change the topic again? Perhaps the alcohol would help loosen him up, and once they'd gotten to know one another and _finally_ had that drink, maybe something could happen. But then there was always the risk that something wouldn't happen because she'd learnt something about him she didn't like, or maybe finally come to her senses and decided that the giant crocodile was not for her. Or, an even deadlier outcome, she could actually fall in love with him.

The door to the warehouse opened and Waylon stepped in with two crates under his arms and a huge grey blanket over his shoulder, holding onto it with his teeth. He put the crates down the bottles inside clinked together, the sound echoing due to the metal warehouses' acoustics.

"Here." He said, handing the massive blanket to Madeline. Madeline wrapped it around herself at least three times until she was like a walking burrito. She revealed in the newfound warmth and curled back up on the couch. Waylon chuckled and shook his head, ripping the lid off one of the crates and pulling out a bottle of red wine.

"Ooh, classy." Madeline said with a grin as Waylon pulled the cork out with his teeth. "Got any wine glasses and a smorgasbord of cheese hidden around here?" Waylon looked at her like a rabbit trapped in headlights. He probably didn't know what a smorgasbord was. Madeline shook her head and reached out for the bottle.

"It's okay, I'm not that classy, give it here."

Madeline took a swig from the bottle of red wine, the alcohol scorching her throat as it went down in the most wonderful way. It was nice to drink something over than shots, and to drink as much as she wanted without having to pay for it. She handed the bottle back over to Waylon as he slumped down on the couch. He couldn't quite put his lips around the neck of the bottle so he simply opened his mouth and let the red liquid gush onto his tongue and down his throat, some of it dribbling down his jaw and neck making him look like he had just drunk blood. Oddly enough Madeline found that sight kind of sexy in a twisted primitive kind of way.

"So..." Madeline began as she swirled the bottle around. "Tell me about yourself." Waylon looked at her with a puzzled expression.  
"What do you mean?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well it's just... I realised I hardly know anything about you." She confessed with a smile, trying to lighten the mood as the tension from the _almost kiss_ was still hanging in the air. Waylon looked at her uncomfortably and shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't really know what to say. There isn't much to know." He said awkwardly. Madeline wanted to slap him. He was giant freaking crocodile, surely there was _something_ new to learn about him.

"Well then tell me a secret or something." She said, taking a sip from the bottle. It was almost empty since Waylon had skulled most of it down in one go.

"Like what?" Waylon asked, shifting in his seat like a nervous child hiding a secret from his parents.

"I dunno, anything. Here, I'll go first." Madeline said, putting the now empty bottle on the floor. "When I was a little girl I used to worry about a fire breaking out in the house in the middle of the night, but my main worry was about having to run outside with no shoes on. So before I went to sleep I would put my slippers at the bottom of the bed on top of the sheets so I would have them in case of an emergency. Because you know, if they were on the floor they would burn but somehow I could walk over that fire if they were on my bed."

Waylon snorted a little with laugher and shook his head with disbelief and a little bit confusion.

"How would that even work?" He asked, still chuckling as he grabbed another bottle of wine, this time a different brand.

"Child logic that's how." Madeline giggled, snatching the bottle before Waylon could drink it all and taking another swig. "Your turn."

"Well... err. I dunno. I guess, when I was a kid I used to be afraid of the tooth fairy."

Madeline practically spurted all the whine out and laughed her head off.

"Afraid of the tooth fairy? How?" She giggled, unable to even move she found it so hilarious.

"Knock it off." Waylon grumbled, looking embarrassed as he took the bottle of wine from Madeline and necked the rest of it back.

"Woah easy there tiger, you're going to pass out before this DNM is over." Madeline warned as Waylon finished off his second bottle of wine. He was not pacing himself.

"Relax, it takes a lot of alcohol to get me drunk 'cos I'm so big, also my liver or something doesn't absorb as much of the alcohol into my blood or whatever."

"Ah okay." Madeline said, half believing him and half thinking he just wanted to get wasted really quickly to avoid the conversation. Unluckily for him, Madeline was getting tipsy, and she was persistent when tipsy.

"So afraid of the tooth fairy huh? Explain that child logic to me." She demanded, stretching her legs out and resting them on Waylon's knee.

"Well, if the idea of a tiny flying person entering your house at night and taking your teeth, of all things, in exchange for money isn't weird enough, I was afraid that she was putting different teeth in my mouth as well." Waylon explained. "As if she opened up my gums with her tiny knife, shoved a new tooth into them, and sealed it up so the new tooth could pierce through the gums as it grew and hurt the hell out of me."

"Okay," Madeline said doubtfully, giggling at the idea of a knife wielding tooth fairy. "What gave you that idea?"

"Well, when my teeth grew back, they weren't normal teeth. They were bigger and pointier, like they are now."

"Oh." Madeline realised, her giggling fading to silence.

"Don't worry though, I tried to get her back for it. Stayed up all night with one of those electric bug zapper things." Waylon explained with a grin, looking a little guilty for bringing the mood down. "I ended up falling asleep with the thing in my hand and zapped myself."

"Woah, clumsy much." Madeline laughed, taking a sip from the bottle.

"Yeah, my aunt got pissed off and throttled me for it."

Madeline's eyes lit up. A way into finding out more about Waylon's past and family.

"So you lived with your aunt?" She asked casually, scooting a little closer to Waylon but only by an inch so he didn't really notice.

"Yeah." Waylon said blankly, snatching the bottle and going to take another sip. Then he stopped and scowled at the bottle for a moment before swigging it back anyway. Madeline looked at him eagerly, hoping he would elaborate a bit. When he didn't, Madeline decided to push a little.

"You have any brothers or sisters?" She asked tenderly, hoping not to touch a sore topic. Waylon shook his head.

"Na, only me." He took another swig, finishing off his third bottle and cringed as the effects of alcohol started to work on him. "My ma died when I was born, and I dunno if my dad did a runner before or after I killed her." Madeline felt a pang of regret. She should have known that the giant crocodile man had a sad back-story. But she still wanted to know about him, she wanted to know his past so she could maybe be in his future.

"Killed her?" She asked gently, leaving the crates of wine alone as her head started to spin a little.

"My condition..." Waylon said, gesturing to his face. "Made me a big fucking baby, and I think my skin, or my blood type, or something about me caused the birth to be really hectic and my ma couldn't handle it." All of a sudden Waylon resembled a child for a brief instant, and all Madeline wanted to do was give him a big hug and hold his head against her heartbeat to sooth him. As he cast his eyes down, Waylon looked so vulnerable and miserable, the giant, muscular Killer Croc looked like he could have been made of glass and shatter at any moment.

"She never even held me." He said quietly, almost as if he was speaking to himself or verbalising his thoughts. "She died and I got given to my aunt who would have done better to throw me out rather than treat me like she did."

Madeline wanted to ask what he meant by that comment but she hesitated, surprisingly, Waylon explained anyway. He turned and looked at her with sad yellow eyes, almost begging for someone to heal him.

"She used to beat me you know? She'd get drunk as all hell and throw shit at me. I was a big kid but, I was still a kid so..." He shook his head and gritted his teeth. "You know she made everything worse? She tossed me in the bath one day and ordered me to scrub my skin until the scales were gone. It hurt, god it hurt so badly as I scrubbed my own flesh off but I truly believed that it would make it go away and I could just be normal." Waylon laughed bitterly, a low growl behind his words like a second entity was speaking. He stared at the bottle in his hand, scowling at it as if it was the cause of all his problems. His sad eyes had turned into the bitter, angry eyes of Killer Croc, the oval pupils now slits and his lip curled up into a snarl. Madeline felt herself become quite scared all of a sudden, however, she didn't have an urge to run away. In fact, she wanted to move closer and hold him tight even more.

"It wasn't all bad though." Waylon growled, his snarl becoming a rather menacing grin. "The kids at school, they made fun of me of course, but when I figured out I was bigger and stronger than them. Ha, they got what they deserved. Great day for the cops in town, they'd never done a murder investigation where the murderer was a twelve year old." It was then that Madeline realised who the man before her was. She _knew_ he was a killer, but she hadn't quite acknowledged it, not in the terms of cold blooded murder. Sure, she'd seen him kill thugs but they'd tried to rape her, they deserved it. But it was only know that she realised Waylon wasn't just a sad, miserable man, and nor was he just a mindless killer. This was the first time she was seeing him this way, as Killer Croc.

Waylon Jones was the product of a life filled with hate, bottled up rage and disgust for both himself and everyone around him. Living in world where everyone despised the different and persecuted them for it had turned what could have been a normal and happy boy into a murdering, rampaging beast. It had turned him into a cannibalistic monster, murderer and brutish criminal. And despite knowing this, despite knowing and understanding that he was unstable, volatile and unpredictable, she still didn't want to run away, she didn't want to abandon him. Maybe she was fucked up too, or perhaps getting a little too drunk, but didn't Waylon deserve a bit of happiness, didn't he deserve someone to accept him for who and what he was, even if that was a murdering cannibal? Nobody was perfect, and he certainly wasn't anywhere near being an angel, but even demons needed love right?

Waylon seemed to snap out of the sinister trance he was in, his pupils returning to circular ones and his face turning sad and a little fearful once more. He shook his head as if she shake away the Killer Croc that had emerged. He looked frightened, like what he had become for a moment there was something he was truly afraid of. Madeline didn't blame him, Killer Croc was terrifying. Then, Madeline had an idea and leaped to her feet. Waylon looked surprised at the sudden moving and again, somewhat frightened by it. With a grin and the determination to cheer Waylon up, Madeline leaped onto the couch and spread her arms wide like a performer. She had to get him out of the slump she'd accidently put him in, and express her drunken wild side a bit. She beamed from ear to ear and Waylon raised a brow.

"What?" He asked, looking quite puzzled.

"Let's go rob a bank!"


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Waylon didn't quite understand why they were stalking through Gotham to rob a bank in the middle of the night, or why Madeline had insisted on doing so in the first place. They'd been quite happily drinking and chatting, until Waylon had gone a little psycho for a moment there, and then all of a sudden Madeline had decided they should go and rob a bank. It was weird, but he had to admit it was kind of sexy when a woman took charge like that. She'd leaped up on the couch and given her orders, and not fully understanding why but also not questioning it, Waylon had carried her out of the warehouse, back to the pipe and was now trudging through the sewers with Madeline sat on his shoulder.

As he walked he couldn't help but wonder how the hell they were going to rob a bank. Madeline had nothing with her and hardly anything on her, and didn't seem to be cold anymore for that matter, so how was she supposed to be any help.

"Okay, I gotta ask, how is this going to work?" Waylon asked, halting his walk and agitating Madeline a little by doing so. "My experience with robbing banks is embarrassing but I think yours is even worse."

"Well then we can rob a jewellery store or something." Madeline announced, putting her hands on her hips, her elbow whacking Waylon in the back of the head. She was clumsy when tipsy, and loud. It was a surprise Batman hadn't found them just from hearing Madeline talk, let alone a bank robbery attempt.

"I don't really feel like getting arrested tonight." Waylon moaned, rubbing the back of his head, not that it really hurt or anything.

"Well then what about a DVD store, get you some movies that aren't porn." Madeline suggested with a mischievous grin. "Batman and the cops won't really care about that."

"If they hear _I'm_ involved, they will be interested in showing up to put me back in Arkham. And I don't feel like a round of electroshock therapy tonight."

What Waylon really wanted was to go back to his warehouse, somehow re-create the mood from before he'd gone to find Madeline a blanket, and this time make the right choice and kiss her like he wanted to. He'd already had one little laps in sanity when thinking about his childhood had made him angry, the last thing he wanted was to aggravate Killer Croc some more and run the risk of hurting Madeline. But he did kind of want to have some fun of the criminal kind, a little rush to get the blood boiling just enough to come across as a _dangerous predator_ in a sexual way rather than an awkward lizard like per usual.

"Here's an idea, how about we pay Penguin a visit." He growled maliciously, a jagged grin spreading across his face. Madeline clapped her hands in agreement.

"Oh yes, a little payback sounds good." She cheered. Waylon had been meaning to get a bit of revenge on Penguin for imprisoning him and using him as body disposal. Attacking Penguin had been the reason for his imprisonment but that was because he had been clumsy, this time he would try to stay focused and not get knocked out. With Madeline around, he had someone to look out for and a reason to stay conscious after a heavy blow to the head, perhaps with her around he wouldn't go down as easily.

They followed the sewer system to one of Penguin's other clubs, the Blue Umbrella, where he kept a lot of his cash. Criminals didn't like to use banks, mainly because Twoface liked to rob them, and most of them spent the large amounts of cash they had instantly on guns, drugs or whatever else they wanted. But Penguin was a hoarder and had mountains of cash in his vault, to steal that cash would seriously piss him off and remind him not to mess with Killer Croc again. That was if Waylon could actually get into the vault, somehow he couldn't image he'd be able to smash his way in.

"So are we going to kill Penguin?" Madeline asked, sounding a little less tipsy than before. She sounded reluctant to kill Penguin, it was murder and she wasn't a criminal, but Waylon didn't doubt that she'd have no qualms with _him_ killing Penguin.

"Na, he's too valuable to the city. Everyone gets their drugs, guns and explosives through him, plus he's the only one who owns clubs that super criminals can attend so we better leave him alive." Waylon explained, but he certainly wasn't going to let Penguin go without a couple scratches and bruises. "We _are_ however, going to take all his money, which would be like taking an eye or a limb to him."

"Ooh, then can we buy you DVDs." Madeline asked, suddenly getting all excited again.

"Err, yes. Then we can buy DVDs." Waylon agreed suspiciously, why was she so obsessed with getting him DVDs that weren't porn? What was wrong with porn? Some of them even had plot lines.

Waylon chose to go to the surface exit next to the entrance of the Blue Umbrella rather than follow the system under the club and enter from below. There was a lot of swimming involved if they went under the club and somehow he didn't think Madeline would appreciate being made to swim through the sewers.

"So what's the plan?" Madeline asked, as she straddled Waylon's shoulders to peek out from under the manhole cover like a cautious Ninja Turtle.

"Well what do you see?" Waylon asked, fighting with his manhood again. He wasn't going to lie it was really nice to have such a gorgeous woman's legs on his shoulders and her barely covered crotch against the back of his neck. They would be though rough with this plan, which meant it required a lot of planning, and that took a lot of time, a lot of time for Madeline to sit on his shoulders.

"It looks like they're having a party. There are lots of cars pulling up and people in suits and dresses. A formal function. Does Penguin do those?" Madeline asked, putting her hand on Waylon's head to steady herself.

"Not the legal kind." Waylon said, trying to think what the event could be. "Who's there?"

"I dunno any of them, rich people who aren't openly criminal but probably worse than a common thug. Politicians', businessmen maybe? I dunno, all I know is that there are no clowns, riddles, Mexican wrestlers or burn victims."

Madeline let the manhole cover shut and looked down at Waylon. Waylon was racking his brain to figure out how they were going to do this, he wasn't used to planning. Usually, if he needed cash he'd just rob a jewellery store and cause more damage than the total value of the gems he'd nicked. Since he didn't want to get thrown in Arkham again, especially since Madeline was with him, he couldn't do anything so bold and obvious. Robbing Penguin certainly wasn't subtle but surely Batman had better things to do than rescue Penguin's loot, and no one at the party would ring the cops either. Still, so many people there, most of them prominent figures in Gotham even if they were corrupt. If he made a big scene they would hunt him down. Stealth wasn't Waylon's strong suit, not out of the water anyway, but he'd have to give it shot.

"Ooh I have a plan." Madeline exclaimed, peaking out of the manhole cover again. "I could steal one of the dresses from the escorts, I could pretend to be one of them and go in as a guest with one of the old fogies."

"Not a chance, you can't go in there alone." Waylon snapped, almost yelling he was so against it. She could get caught and killed, or worse, and he wouldn't be there to help her.

"Where does Penguin keep his safe?" Madeline asked, and Waylon could practically see the cogs turning in her brain as she planned out their daring heist. Since when had she become a criminal mastermind?

"Top floor, in the wall of his office. Directly above a giant shark tank or something like that."

Waylon rolled his eyes, why didn't Penguin have more penguins and less giant sharks, save everyone who tried to rob him a whole lot of trouble. Furthermore, why use Waylon as body disposal when he had a shark to eat the bodies?

"Oh yes, it'll work like a charm. I get one of the girls to help me, get a handful of cash for her in return, go in the front, ditch my escort, find the safe, crack the lock, get the money, and get out."

"Brilliant plan accept for one tiny detail." Waylon said with an irritated expression. "Can you crack multimillion dollar safes?"

"Err... No." Madeline admitted sheepishly.

"Also, how much can you carry out of there without raising suspicion? Baring in mind you'll be in a dress."

"Okay okay, stupid plan. Well what do you suggest?"

Madeline clambered out of the sewer through the manhole and scurried as quickly as she could to the side of one of the limos waiting to arrive at the front of the club. She opened the door and practically dived into the back, landing on the lap of a very startled escort.

"What the hell?" The escorts date exclaimed, leaping back as the bedraggled, Arkham Asylum shirt wearing girl slammed the door behind her shut.

"I need your dress." Madeline ordered to the escort. "And a bit more makeup, and perhaps you could do my hair for me?"

"What's going on?" The escort exclaimed, etching herself away from Madeline.

"I'm robbing the Penguin tonight with a friend, I need to sneak in but I'm not dressed for the occasion." Madeline explained quickly, not that she was really in a rush, the line to the front off the club was long and slow. "Hence why I need your dress and a bit of beauty treatment."

"Are you insane." The politician shouted.

"You can if you give me some of the cash." The escort said at the same time, and the politician looked at her like she had gone mad. The escort merely scowled at him as she began to take off her earrings to give to Madeline.

"You can't rob Cobble Pot!" He exclaimed as Madeline unzipped the escorts beautiful red dress. "He'll kill you!"

"Think of the cash old man. Keep your trap shut and you'll get a cut." Madeline hissed as she slid into the dress, which surprisingly it fit like a glove. "Besides, if you tell anyone about this or rat me out, the guy I'm working with will eat you alive." The politician shivered and recoiled away from them, as if Madeline herself was going to eat him. Madeline slipped on the red shoes and fastened the necklace around herself. It was a glistening silver chain with a modest but stunning ruby pendant. The escort produced various types of makeup from her handbag and used Madeline as her canvas as she painted on a new and beautiful face.

The politician looked terrified, partly because of Madeline's threat, and partially because of the threat of Penguin finding out. Madeline rolled her eyes as the politician looked to the door to make a daring escape.

"Don't even think about it." Madeline said without missing a beat. "Besides, do you want everyone in Gotham to know that an important man such as yourself attended an event held by the _criminal,_ Penguin?" The politician quivered and shook his head violently.

"Good." Madeline said with a grin as the escort finished Madeline's hair which was now in a messy but elaborate bun with a jewelled hairpiece. "Now let's go to this party."

Penguin may have been a scum bag criminal, but damn if he didn't know how to throw a party. The Blue Umbrella was a big, casino like building with high walls, glamorous chandeliers, and expensive decor. The wallpaper was a royal blue colour with faint, slightly darker blue swirling patterns, and a marble crown molding that lead onto the marble floor. The room was packed with politicians, celebrities and businessmen, as well as criminals, prostitutes, and waitresses in underwear. The food being carried around on silver trays looked decedent and divine, the drinks sparkling and fizzing in the regal light. It was a very fancy affair for a criminal, but that was a good thing for Madeline, the thugs weren't allowed to be so repugnant at such an affair.

"I'm going to get myself a drink darling, don't wait up." Madeline whispered seductively to her politician as she unhooked her arm from his. She sauntered away quickly and into the crowed, losing the stuffy old man instantly as she searched for a way out of the mass of people. She needed to find the location of Penguin's office and therefore, his safe, as well as find the boiler room Waylon had told her about and whatever ' _secret door'_ or ' _hidden latch'_ was apparently down there. The one thing she was worried about however, was Penguin recognising her. Sure she had different makeup on and wasn't dressed like a slut, but there was always that chance.

Madeline made it to the edge of the room where the doors were open to allow the guests to walk down the hall to the toilets, but the hall also lead to a guarded elevator that seemed to be strictly off limits to everyone who dared venture near. Madeline pretended to check her makeup in her cupped hand since her handbag was still at the strip club, thankfully no one took notice. She watched out of the corner of her eye as the guards shifted their weight from one foot to the other and moved about uncomfortably in place. They looked bored, and irritated to have to be wearing suits and not the usual thug attire.

"Why has Penguin got us standing around all night." One of the guards asked as he tried to loosen his tie. "Aren't there better things to do?"

"That's _'Mr Cobblepot_ '. Tonight is a big event and for legal reasons he is not a criminal tonight, but the wealthy businessman, Oswald Cobblepot." The other guard corrected, sounding like he had already corrected his partner a dozen times. "And we are guarding the only way up to his office because of what happened a few weeks ago with that crocodile freak. The cops showed up and found some of the bosses cash and confiscated it. He doesn't want anyone getting near his money, and if someone does, it's our heads that are going to be on the chopping block."

"Yeah yeah I know. I just don't see why we have to wear these freaking penguin suits."

The guards laughed at the terrible joke and Madeline rolled her eyes. She looked around for a possible way to distract them long enough for her and Waylon to get in the elevator and up to the office without being seen. Sadly, she couldn't think of anything that would be more distracting than a giant crocodile man. Perhaps they'd just have to charge through.

"Ladies and gentlemen." A voice announced in a cockney British accent from inside the main hall. Madeline hurried back to the crowd of people and hovered at the edge of the mass as everyone turned to the balcony that over looked the main hall. Atop the balcony, dressed in black and white like the famous flightless bird with a top hat and a monocle alongside his pointed nose and evil grin, was the Penguin. His buttons were bursting at the seams from his gargantuan stomach and he looked to be a shade of grey. However, the two women on his arm, one blonde haired woman dressed in black and a dark haired black woman dressed in white, seemed to adore his every word. Paid escorts perhaps, or maybe gold digging girlfriends. Who knows, if Madeline had a thing for Waylon perhaps there were people out there who had a thing for Penguin.

"Welcome to this evening's festivities." He said grandly, spreading his stubby arms wide. "As you know, this is a charity event to raise money for endangered Antarctic animals, so I do hope you give generously to the charity and I'm sure the simple act of doing so, will bring you peace of mind knowing that you've done the right thing." Madeline groaned quietly, he couldn't think of a better way to make the important people in Gotham pay him protection money than a ' _charity_ ' event for penguins? What did worry Madeline however, was that Penguin was on the top floor, the same as his office and his money, and since he didn't look like the kind of man to come down and socialise, they would have to deal with him too. Penguin wasn't a fight, but he was knowing for having an assortment of creative weapons he'd acquired over the years, and perhaps one of them might actually do some damage to Waylon. Madeline would have to get Penguin away from his office, but the two women with him would be a problem.

Sneaking off once again, Madeline followed the hallway along for quite a while and down some steps into a part of the club that started to look more like the club of a criminal with darker walls, dirtier floors, and thick cloud of smoke. Madeline turned a corner but quickly spun back around and pressed herself against the wall. Thankfully, no one noticed. Madeline peeked around the corner and saw a group of Penguin's thugs playing pool, smoking, and flirting with some topless dancers. They were all in their usual attire and since they were so far away from the rest of the party, Madeline had no doubt they'd treat her the same way they had back in the Iceberg Lounge. She glanced around for anything that might tell her where the boiler room was, but no such luck. She was sure it would be further down, but the only stairs left seemed to be on the other side of the pool room. She thought for a bit, and then an idea popped into her head. She had acted before, she could do it again.

"Excuse me boys." Madeline said in her most seductive, regal British accent. "Do you know where a girl can get a drink around here." She was taking a big risk, but hopefully, the prospect of sexing a wealthy, prominent British woman would make the thugs behave. As she had hoped, their jaws dropped and most of them froze in place. One or two tried to play it cool and ran their fingers through their hair, trying to look like a model, and one snapped for the barkeep to get a drink.

"What's your poison?" The thug who had snapped his fingers said, offering Madeline a seat. Madeline grinned her most seductive and mysterious grin as she sauntered over, swaying her hips as she did so and crossing one leg over the other when she took a seat on the bar stool.

"Something strong." She whispered, resting one arm on the counter and leaning over, pushing her chest out as much as she could. "I like my liquor _hard_."

"Coming right up." The thug said, giving the bartender a quick look to spring him into action with the drink. The thug then produced a cigarette from his pocket and offered it to Madeline. She took it and held it between her lips as the thug lit it with his cheap Bic lighter.

"So what's a beautiful thing like you doing down here. I thought the party was upstairs?" The thug asked, leaning closer to seem more interested. Madeline did have to applaud his effort, he was actually _trying_ to seduce her. She groaned and rolled her eyes and her head as she did so, swapping legs.

" _That_ party is such a drag. Everyone is walking around pretending they're better than everyone else. Women holding their heads so high to compensate for the fact they got there through lying on their backs, and the men with them look proud to have such beautiful wives, but deep down they're all dying inside because the fact of the matter is that none of them can get it up anymore."

"Wow, sounds like that really bothers you." The thug said, looking a little lost from what Madeline had just said. She hadn't expected him to keep up.

"What I mean is, I hate it when people pretend to be above it all. We may have fancy clothes and lots of jewellery buy pointless things, but at the end of the day in the bedroom everyone is just an animal."

"And what about you? Are you an animal?"

Madeline gave the thug a mischievous gaze and chuckled lightly.

"Wouldn't you like to know." She said as the bartender gave her the drink. She took a sip and the stuff burnt like acid, but somehow she managed to keep a straight face.

"Well perhaps I'm animal." The thug said suggestively, winking at Madeline and making her cringe, his game was so bad.

"You know Ozzy is the only one who understands it." Madeline said, changing topic, she couldn't seduce him yet. "That's why invited me to come to this party. He said that Gotham had plenty of people who could provide a good time and keep their mouths shut about it."

"Ozzy?"

"Oswald, he and I go way back. Not romantically of course." Madeline added quickly, she was sure nothing would turn the thugs away than thinking she and the Penguin had done the nasty. "Why we're practically related. He's the only one that understands what it's like to be the black sheep of the family."

"You? The black sheep? I can hardly see how that's possible." The thug said, turning his head as if to get a better look of Madeline. Madeline grinned sweetly but also with a slight hint of sadness, it had to be convincing.

"Yes, well, the black sheep's family do a very good job of dying her coat white."

Madeline took another sip from the drink and sighed heavily. She looked at the thug with pleading eyes that could ask for him to take her right then and there or beg him to hold her tight and give her the world depending on how he interpreted them.

"It's difficult you know. There's a lot of pressure placed on you when you're the heiress to a family legacy and fortune. You have to be regal and well presented, hold your head up high and walk like the ground is made of gold. Why, the tabloids would have a field day if they found out that the regal lady was nothing more than a dirty nymphomaniac."

The thugs eyes practically popped out of his head and his pants seemed to be turning into a little tent. Madeline leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

"Do you have anywhere we can go." Madeline whispered, labouring her breath to sound needy. "Perhaps I can show you what an _animal_ I am."

"There is the toilet..."

"A toilet? Really?" Madeline exclaimed, quickly becoming shocked and appalled. "I might be sex crazed, but a toilet?" The thug looked around for one of his buddies to help him but they were all trying to distract themselves with the topless girls since they had missed out on the chance to bed a lady. Madeline saw the thug start to get angry about not being able to think of anything and she didn't want him getting forceful. Even if she had convinced him she was a close friend of Penguin's, he might still try something.

"What about a boiler room." She suggested with a grin. "Hot and steamy, I've never done it there before." The thug seemed to light up and hopped off his seat. He offered his hand and Madeline took it before being lead to the stairs that took them down to the lower levels of the club. It was only a short walk before they came to the door of the boiler room and slipped inside.

The minute the door shut the thug had his lips and hands all over Madeline, trying to unzip her dress and his own pants. Madeline hated it when guys were so eager, straight to action, no foreplay whatsoever. She also felt like she was cheating when the thug groped at her breasts and squeezed her ass. She managed to wriggle free and trot off into the gloomy darkness of the room that was like a maze with all the boilers and vents.

"Hey, where you going?" The thug called as Madeline disappeared from his sight.

"A bit of fun before the main event. Catch me and I'm yours." She giggled, turning a corner and scanning around for this latch so Waylon could come and save her from having to kiss the thug again.

She took a left, then another left, and then a right, and then another left, trying to lose the thug who was actually quite fast. She couldn't see any sign of a latch or hidden door, but there was a section of the room that was quartered off from the rest with tape and orange cones. The floor looked weak and cracked, as if it could break at any moment, and by the look of it, it seemed like there was nothing beneath it either. That had to be the way in Waylon had mentioned, and beneath the unsteady flooring had to be the old Gotham ruins she'd heard about.

The thug finally caught up with Madeline who was stood on the other side of the unstable floor, however, she had removed the tap and cones. The thug didn't even look down at the ground as he walked forward towards Madeline, who had slipped off a shoulder of the red dress. But just as he stepped into the middle of the unstable patch of flooring, a scaly, clawed hand burst through the floor and grabbed the thug by his leg. Before the thug could even scream he was dragged down through the unstable flooring, taking the rest of it with him, and disappeared into the darkness. Madeline grinned and stayed where she was as Waylon hauled himself out from the hole in the floor. She kept that same seductive look on her face when Waylon looked over to her.

"That dress?" Waylon said, his expression unsure on what to do. He didn't seem to know if he wanted to look surprised, pleased, or enchanted.

"Nice huh? Gotta give some of the cash we get to the escort I got it from."

"We just giving away money now?"

"Come on, she's a fellow working girl, gotta give her something for helping. Besides, I might just keep this dress, it fits really well."

Waylon growled low with disapproval.

"What now?" Madeline asked, walking past him and back to the door.

"How did you get that guy down here?" Waylon asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes as he tried to work it out himself. Madeline grinned and giggled.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Madeline said, but she regretted being so cocky when Waylon's pupils seemed to turn to slits and he growled again, this time louder.

"Relax." She said, putting her hands up to calm him. "I was never going to let him get anywhere. Now come on you jealous baby, we've got a penguin to rob." Madeline spun on her heel and stalked towards the door with Waylon following close behind. She couldn't help but feel a little worried about how quickly he had turned savage, even if it had only been for a moment. Then again, she also felt quite flattered that the idea of her with another man made him go savage in an instant. If only he'd make a move.

 **So yeah no bank, that would be to risky, and Waylon seems to be finding it harder to keep his cool. Will he loose it and hurt some people, I sure hope so. What will happen when they go to get the cash from Penguin's office? At the moment I have a mental image of Waylon trying to be sneaky and doing forward rolls and stuff so they don't get caught. Anyway, I will try to get another chapter up soon once I get some tests out of the way, so yeah, thankyou if you following this closely, I love you guys, you give me the courage to keep on writing.**


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Madeline looked amazing in the red dress, and ass looked so good in the tight fabric as she walked, Waylon just wanted to throw her down and have her then and there. But that thug had touched her, probably groped her and kissed her, touched every inch of her body, and Madeline had let him. Sure, it was to get him to show her where the boiler room was and let Waylon in, however, how could he be sure there hadn't been more done between them before he'd yanked the thug down and tore him limb from limb. The very thought of another man touching Madeline made his blood boil, his eyes narrow and only see red, and growling became involuntary.

"Okay, so there are about dozen guys up there and a couple of topless girls. Think you can manage that?" Madeline asked as she opened the door to the stairs.

"I think I can manage a couple topless girls." Waylon said slyly, trying to get his own back for that thug touching her.

"What the fuck did you just say." Madeline snapped, turning her head towards him slowly, her eyes wide and practically filled with hellfire. Waylon went pale. He should not have said that. He should not have said that!

"Nothing." He said quickly, looking up and pretending to be fascinated by something in the corner of the ceiling. Madeline narrowed her eyes at him and in that moment Waylon concluded that women were more terrifying when angry than he was on his worst day. At least if you had an angry Killer Croc charging towards you, you know what was going to happen. Women? You had no clue how they were going to kill you, and maybe no idea _when_ they were going to do it.

"That's what I thought." Madeline grumbled, keeping her narrowed eyes on Waylon who kinda wanted to retreat back into the old tunnels beneath the city.

They went up the stairs and Waylon wasted no time in breaking down the door to the thug's lounge and grabbing the guy closest to him. He tossed the flailing thug across the room and into the assortment of liquor on the back wall of the bar. With a grunt he tossed the pool table upside-down and on top of another flailing thug. One of the guys had been trying to play pool used his pool cue to stab Waylon, but the wound hardly grazed the skin. As another guy pulled out a gun and aimed at Waylon's head to fire, Waylon picked up the pool cue wielding thug and held him up just in time for the bullet to hit _him_ in the back before tossing him down, picking up the pool cue, and using it to impale the thug with the gun against the wall.

The room was chaos, the topless girls hiding in the corner and the thugs looking for weapons. One cowardly thug was making a run for the door but Waylon charged forward, snapping his jaws and eventually catching the thug's arm in them just as the thug tried to escape. He tossed the thug into the air, the arm ripping off as he did so, letting the thug hit the ceiling with quite a degree of force. Blood spurted from his shoulder as he fell unconscious, bleeding out quite profusely. Without even thinking Waylon swallowed the arm in a second and the realised what a mistake that was. He needed to stop doing that, it always made him a little more crazy in a fight when he had human flesh digesting in his gut, and with Madeline around and those topless girls he knew she wouldn't want him to hurt, things were going to get more difficult. He couldn't help it sometimes though, the Killer Croc side of him just wanted to eat human flesh while he would quite happily settle for a bucket of spicy chicken wings.

There were seven thugs left to deal with. The guy behind the bar had pulled out a shotgun and fired it. The bullet grazed Waylon's side and it hurt like a bitch but he wasn't going to let it stop him. He snatched the shotgun off the bartender and pulled the trigger, but it was only a single barrel shotgun so he resorted to using it as a club and bashed the bartender over the head. He threw the shotgun away and turned his attention to the two guys who had found machine guns. He bent low and charged, roaring as he did so. The two thugs looked terrified and practically wet themselves when the bullets that hit Waylon didn't slow him down. The one on the left was the first to try and run but that only made him the first to die. Waylon slashed at him, slicing the thugs abdomen, and the turned to the thug on the right to grab him by the head and slam his skull into the wall, leaving a bloody mess of brain and bone.

There were four guys left, but one of them was getting dangerously close to where Madeline was hiding behind the door. Waylon growled and snapped his jaws, lunging for the thug. Then one of other thugs used a heavy metal bat and swung at Waylon's legs. It knocked him down onto one knee but he turned quickly, growling as he did so and snapped at the thug, catching his head inside of his jaw. He forced his jaw shut, crushing the skull and the horrible taste of gooey brain and blood filling his mouth as his tongue tried to recoil away from it. He let the decapitated thug fall to the floor and spat out the brain and shards of skull. Flesh tasted delicious in comparison to brain matter. Why had he done that? Why had it almost eaten more human flesh again? Why did he want to do it more?

The remaining three thugs had abandoned any hope of defeating Waylon and were making a run for the door. Waylon was quick to knock the pool table against it and trap them inside. He growled with an evil grin, showing off his sharp teeth they had all seen crush a skull. They all went pale and froze up, there was nowhere to run. Waylon charged forward, slashing left on the first guy, slashing right on the second. Turing around to slam his fist into the first guy's torso as he tried to stand and spinning around just in time to grab the second guy's leg and toss him towards the bar like he had done before. Then, with the last thug, he snapped his jaw around the thugs torso, lifted him in the air, shook him violently like a savage dog and let go, sending the mangled corpse flying across the room into a messy slump on the floor. It felt good to have those bodies in-between his teeth, the taste of blood on his tongue. He wanted more, he wanted to claw and bite, rip and shred, tear and mutilate more and more. He wanted to crush skulls and pierce organs, he wanted to dismember and disembowel. He wanted to kill. He wanted to eat.

As he looked around however, for another victim, he found that everyone was dead.

"No." He whispered. "No!" He looked around frantically for another person to kill. He would do it slowly this time so he could enjoy it some more. His eyes were glazed over with red and all he could see was blood, all he could see was flesh, all he wanted was to make more of it. Then he spotted the quivering girls in the corner, huddled together as they stared with horror at the monster approaching them. They were afraid of him? And why shouldn't they be? He was quite terrifying with blood dribbling from his mouth, blood on his claws and the stench of death upon him. He prowled forward, a grin forming on his mouth as everything faded to a red blur. He was going to enjoy eating them. He hadn't eaten female flesh in a long time, and as he vaguely remembered, it tasted _so_ good.

He got closer to them and one of them let out a scream so he growled to silence her. He licked his lips, a mixture of saliva and blood dribbling from his mouth like a rabid dog. He growled with each laboured pant, getting faster and faster as he neared. He was about to lunge and devour them but soft hands pressed against his chest and the red haze over his eyes disappeared in an instant.

"Easy there, you alright?" That sweet but feisty voice asked. He looked down and saw Madeline's worried face looking up at him, her eyes pleading him to stop. In a snap his mind returned to normal and he straightened up, realising what he had been about to do. Madeline let her hands drop from his chest and she hurried over to the topless girls who's pretty faces were contorted with horror. Waylon wiped the saliva and blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and spat out the remaining bits of flesh. Now that he was sane again he could feel the human flesh in his stomach disagree with him and he felt sick. He wanted to puke his guts up but held it down. If he puked he'd get hungry, and if he got hungry then he'd only end up eating more.

"It's okay, you're safe now." Madeline said, helping the trembling girls to their feet. Their eyes were fixed on Waylon as he tried to get all the blood of his face. The way they looked at him made him wonder if Madeline meant the girls were safe from the thugs or from _him_? He felt like ripping his own head off. Had Madeline seen all that? He'd like to think she had just been crouched behind the door the whole time and not seen a thing. It was certainly better than the idea of her watching him crush skulls with his teeth and swallow arms whole. Perhaps she _had_ been watched. Or worse, what if she'd been watching and then turned away because it was too horrible to watch. He could imagine it vividly, the horror on her face as she turned away from the carnage and crouched behind the door, her shaking hand covering her mouth as her eyes grew wide with shock. He was never going to get an opportunity to kiss her again. They shouldn't have come.

Madeline had gone over to the bartenders register and forced it open to take all the cash out. She quickly gave the handful of notes to the girls.

"Here, take this, stuff it in your underwear or something and stay here until its safe." Madeline ordered, forcing the girl's hands to close around the money. "Things are going to get rowdy so when you hear everyone screaming, make a run for it." The girls nodded, their eyes still on Waylon. He turned and walked over to one of the less mangled bodies. He tried not to look at the contorted face and pulled out the thugs wallet. Inside was a key card that would no doubt open a door of some description within the Blue Umbrella. They might need it later.

"You ready to go?" Madeline asked, now over at the door blocked by the overturned pool table. Waylon tossed the key card to her and knocked the pool table out of the way. He was a little surprised Madeline was still going to go ahead with this after what he had just done, but it did make him happy to think that she might actually not be fazed by all the blood and carnage. But then that got him thinking too, what kind of a girl wasn't fazed by blood and carnage?

They followed the hallway until they reached a corner, the sound of the party close.

"How are we going to do this?" Madeline asked, peering around the corner. "If we alert those guards everyone is going to be on us. There has to be a way to get them away from the elevator."

"Hmm." Waylon grumbled, thinking for a bit. "I have an idea." He turned around and hurried back to the thug's lounge, the girls screaming when they saw him again. He ignored them, grabbed a corpse, and dragged it back to where Madeline was waiting. He looked around quickly to make sure no one could see him, and the darted into the women's rest room. Thankfully, no one was in there. He threw the body against the wall, leaving a blood splatter as he did so, and quickly exited.

"What did you do?" Madeline asked, raising an eyebrow as he emerged from the women's rest room.

"Now we wait." He said, dragging Madeline back around the corner they had just come from. They only had to sit for about a minute and a half before a stuffy looking woman went into the bathroom. Seconds later, she let out one hell of scream and the guards at the elevator instinctively ran towards the screaming. Once they were inside, Madeline and Waylon quickly ran towards the elevator.

"That was a cleaver plan." Madeline congratulated, giving Waylon a grin of pleasant surprise. She pressed the call button on the elevator and they waited nervously. Waylon kept glancing over at the door to the women's rest room down the hall, just waiting for them to emerge and spot them. Then, the heavenly ding of the elevator arriving and the doors slid open not nearly fast enough. They both got inside and pressed the only button other than ' _ground floor_ '. As the doors started to shut, they heard footsteps and one of the guards with a panicked expression on his face appeared in the closing gap. Madeline hit the ' _close door_ ' button a million times so the guard couldn't open it. Thankfully, the elevator started to move upwards and the guards were left behind.

"Ah shit. They know we're here. That was a dumb plan." Madeline scolded, now giving Waylon a glare. He shrugged his shoulders and couldn't quite comprehend how women changed their moods so quickly. His aunt had done that too, one minute she had been laughing at a show on the TV, the next beating him to a pulp for walking in front of it.

"I can fight my way through whatever's up there." Waylon said casually, trying to come off as cool and laid back, but inside he was actually quite worried. He didn't want to get the red haze over his eyes again, he didn't want to eat anymore human flesh.

The elevator made a _ding_ sound again when it stopped outside of Penguin's office. The doors opened and they both braced for an onslaught of bullets, however, the room was empty, the decor untouched. It was like the waiting room of an expensive psychiatrist's office, with red carpet, old wallpaper, fancy furniture and lots of coffee tables. A standard potted plan sat in the corner and there was one portrait of Penguin on the opposite wall. There were big, wooden double doors across the room from the elevator and looked to be the entrance to Penguin's office. As they walked out and looked around, Waylon could have sworn he could hear something moving beneath the floor, but decided to ignore it and blame it on his little outburst. It was odd though that there were no guards outside the last entrance to Penguin's office, for a paranoid money hoarder like Penguin, this level of security was just embarrassing.

Madeline tried to open the doors but to no avail. Waylon stalked up to them, moved Madeline to the side and ordered her to cover her face so she didn't get wood splinters in her eyes, and then ripped the door off its hinges. He was prepared for a bombardment of bullets again, but again nothing happened. Madeline opened her eyes and stepped inside the room as Waylon tossed the doors aside before following her.

The office was a lot bigger than he'd expected. The ceiling was at least three stories high with a re-enforced glass dome ceiling. The floor however, was a giant tank full to the brim with fish, not piranha or sharks, but just regular, colourful fish. The designated pathway was wooden flooring, or at least painted to look like wood, that lead to a platform where Penguin's oak desk stood, covering papers and a couple wads of cash but again, no guards and no Penguin. Where the hell were they? And more importantly, where was his safe?

"Waylon get down!" Madeline yelled, but it was too late. Waylon felt something powerful hit him in the side and he went flying across the room. He slammed into the wall and then fell from quite a height. He smashed through the glass of the tank and groaned as he found himself surrounded by startled fish. He gritted his teeth and was about to swim back up to the surface and kill whoever had fired that weapon, but then he spotted something black and white moving towards him at a tremendous speed. An orca? Penguin had a fucking Killer Whale? It bashed into his side, slamming him against the wall and knocking the wind out of him. He could practically feel a rib or two break and bit down so hard his teeth almost broke from the force. The orca turned around to come at him again but this time he managed to doge it by pushing off the wall with his feet and darting alongside the orca to grab it by the tail. But the orca was fast flicked its tail hard so Waylon was knocked back. Three crocodiles seemed like a walk in the park compared to this, thank god Haley had never gotten that idea.

Madeline watched in horror as Waylon narrowly missed getting rammed by the orca. There was no way he could win this fight. There was no way he'd survive. If she'd only realised sooner it was a trap. Of course it was strange that there were no guards, why hadn't she said something?

"You little minx." Penguin snapped as he walked towards Madeline who was on her hands and knees looking down at the fight. She leaped to her feet and the moment she did so Penguin aimed a strange looking gun at her.

"Don't you dare try anything girly, 'cos I promise you this will do more damage to your body than it did his." Penguin warned with a malicious grin. The two girls from earlier sauntered in and stood behind him. The blonde girl had one hand on her hip, and the black haired girl had her arms crossed, both grinning with triumph. The guard downstairs must have radioed ahead and warned Penguin about the attack, giving Penguin time to form an ambush. Without Waylon there was nothing Madeline could do. Why on earth had she suggest they do this? Why was drunk Madeline so mean to sober Madeline.

"Ooh he's puttin' up quite a fight there ain't he?" The blonde girl said in her cockney British accent, peering down at the fight in the tank.

"Doesn't matter, he's going to lose." The girl with black hair said with a grin in her smooth American accent, looking straight at Madeline as she spoke. Madeline bit her lip, what was she going to do? How could she help Waylon? How could she do anything? She was just a stripper.

"Tracey, Candy, be nice to our little guest." Penguin said to each of the girls, then his expression changed and he stared at Madeline with curiosity and bafflement. "Hang on, I know you. You're that stripper my men hired a while back. The night that that freak..." Penguin gestured at Waylon who was narrowly missing attack after attack from the orca on one breath of air, "...escaped and killed all my men. You were the one who let him out!"

"It's their fault." Madeline snapped cockily. "The tossed me in there with him, so I just got revenge."

"How'd ya do it though, how'd you convince that cannibalistic monster not to eat ya?" Penguin asked, sounding genuinely curious. "You promise to fuck him or something?"

Madeline didn't respond to that, she just scowled at them, and she knew that probably made them think she _had_ promised to have sex with Waylon for her life. But then the blonde girl named Tracey gasped.

"Oh you're proper naughty you are." She said with a grin. "You didn't fuck him."

"But you want to." Candy added with a gleam in her eyes. Madeline froze up, she didn't have a response to that, had her expression been that obvious. Her lack of protest gave them the answer they wanted.

"Oh my, you've actually gone and fallen in love with him haven't you?" Candy exclaimed, covering mouth and gasping in mock shock. Again, Madeline couldn't bring herself to say anything.

"Trust me darlin', there are better criminals out there to fall in love with then that!" Tracey added, gesturing to Waylon who had just received a bit to the shoulder but struggled free before his arm got ripped off. The very sight of it made tears swell in Madeline's eyes and she clenched her fists as she slumped to her knees.

"Come on." She whispered. "You can do it." She would get down on her knees and pray if she had to, Waylon couldn't lose. He had to survive, and when he did, and if they somehow got out of this situation, she would let him know how she felt, even if he didn't feel the same way.

"Well then if that's the case I can always sell you to a similar kind of guy." Penguin said, speaking like he was offering her the deal of a lifetime. "I'm sure Bane would be eager to have a tough little cookie like yourself." Penguin and his girls walked forward, his gun lowered as he didn't see Madeline as a threat.

"Or perhaps, if you like your men cold blooded, I can always see if that _King Shark_ over in Central City would be interested, providing he doesn't want to eat you first."

Penguin was right in front of her now, his gun lowered completely, just an inch closer and she could do it.

"What's your problem? You gone mute?" Penguin asked, grabbing Madeline by the hair to yank her up. Just as his hand came close Madeline flicked her head up and bit into his hand as hard as she could. Penguin yelled and dropped his gun. He slapped Madeline across the face with the back of his hand and she fell to the floor. Tracey and Candy both gave Madeline a kick with their stiletto shoes before tending to their boss's wounds like sexy nurses.

"Right, that's it, never mind being generous. I'll kill you myself!" Penguin screamed, going for the gun. Then, he froze as the sound of smashing glass filled the air and Waylon, or rather, Killer Croc, leaped out of the tank and landed right behind Penguin and his girls. Loyalty didn't seem to matter to Tracey and Candy anymore so they ran as fast as they could towards the exit. Waylon didn't bother with them, he just towered over Penguin, his eyes slits and his mouth open and hungry like it had been before. As he panted from the exhaustion of the fight and the lack of oxygen, he growled from his injuries, a small chunk of flesh missing from his left side and his left arm hanging limp. Penguin went pale and staggered back, falling onto his fat ass.

"B-But how?" He stuttered, trying to crawl backwards until he bumped into Madeline who had now stood up and was glaring at him. He was going to suffer for hurting her and for putting Waylon in such danger. Perhaps he'd have to die after all.

"You're going to need a new killer whale." Madeline hissed as she wiped the blood from her mouth. "Because it looks like _Killer Croc_ just broke your one's back." Penguin looked down to see the orca floating limp in the water, its body bent at a funny angle. He started screaming for his life.

"Don't kill me. You want money? Weapons? Women?" Penguin spurted, and then noticed Madeline's glaring intensify. "Okay not women, dresses? Jewellery? I don't know, just don't kill me alright!"

"Too late for that!" Waylon growled, lunging for Penguin with his jaws open. But before he could snap the squirming, fat, flightless bird in his mouth a pair of black military boots collided with his skull and knocked him to the ground. Landing between Penguin and a now very aggravated Killer Croc, dressed from head to toe in black with a long black cape, was none other than The Batman.

 **A lot of gore in this chapter and displays of Waylon's super strength and ferocity. And I know, I know, you wanted them to hook up, I wanted that too and this chapter turned out very different to how I had planned it, but then I thought "hey, what about Batman?" so maybe next chapter we will see some sexy crocodile time. In any case, Waylon is struggling with keeping his cool, he's worried about Madeline, Madeline confessed her love and all that jazz so please keep reading and they might just finally hook up. Also btw, this story is not even half finished so they're is going to be plenty more action to come.**


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The last thing Waylon had wanted to deal with that evening was Batman, yet here the caped crusader was, kicking _him_ in the face and _saving_ the snivelling life of Penguin. Waylon didn't understand why Batman didn't kill people, it would solve all of Gotham's crime problems, thousands of people would be saved in the long run, yet the dark night could not bring himself to end a life. Some people thought it was noble, Waylon thought it was irresponsible.

Another blow to the head from Batman in an attempt to knock Waylon out. He shook it off and lunged at Batman, who rolled out of the way and threw a batarang or whatever it was at the back of Waylon's head. He growled and snapped his jaws, his vision starting to turn red. The Batman was really going to send him over the edge, mainly because when fighting the Batman, Waylon couldn't draw blood. He didn't want to go crazy, loose his mind and end up back in Arkham, especially with Madeline in Batman's reach.

He glanced over to Madeline who was looking for a place to hide as Penguin tried to make a run for it. He wasn't going to let Penguin get away that easily so he grabbed the nearest chair and threw it towards the fleeing man, narrowly missing him. Madeline had ducked out of instinct when the chair went flying over her head, but Batman mistook that for her life being in danger and abandoned his fight with Waylon to rescue Madeline from what he thought was a life threatening situation.

His cape surrounded Madeline for a moment, engulfing her in darkness before revealing Batman's arm around Madeline's waist and his other arm in the air with his grappling hook in hand aimed upwards. Waylon's vision didn't even fade red, the haze just took over in an instant and he charged towards them at top speed.

"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!" He roared, but the only sound that came out was a unintelligible roar. Before he reached them, Batman and Madeline went soaring up into the air, Madeline screaming as they did so. Waylon looked up and saw them land on a wall mounted figurine and saw Batman readjust Madeline in his arms so he held her with both. That was it, there was no going back. Batman could _not_ hold her like that. That was the way you held someone you loved as you carried them to bed. That was the way Waylon had carried Madeline to his warehouse when she had been freezing cold and wanted to take her to bed. Batman was holding Waylon's girl in that way, and Killer Croc wasn't having any of it.

"Put me down right now!" Madeline ordered, trying to break free of Batman's tight grip but she was held fast in his arms.

"I'm trying to save you." Batman growled in his deep voice so no one could tell who he was.

"No, you're getting in the way and making things worse. Put me down right now and go catch Penguin, that bastard deserves to get his ass kicked more than Waylon does."

"Do you think you have a relationship with Killer Croc?" Batman exclaimed in a monotone while still sounding surprised. "If that is true, you should get out while you can, he's dangerous and _will_ turn on you." Madeline looked down at Waylon who was glaring up at them and growling loudly. No doubt his eyes had turned to slits and he had somewhat of a jealous expression on his face. The way Batman was handling her was probably pissing him off, and that made Madeline smile a little on the inside.

"I know he's dangerous, I watched him slaughter twelve men before, and he was going to kill some strippers too but _I_ stopped him. Not by trying to knock him out, but by treating him like a person and _asking_ him to stop!" Madeline yelled, staring Batman right in the eyes. "And don't you go saying I've pulled a ' _Harley Quinn_ ' or something like that because I haven't. I don't have Stockholm syndrome, but I tell you what I do have, chiroptophobia! So will you please put me down!"

Batman hesitated for a moment, but his hesitation was cut short when a chair hit the wall to the side of them. Waylon was getting angry, tossing things around and roaring for them to come down, and Penguin had disappeared. Batman leaped off the ledge and glided down to the other side of the room. He let Madeline go and she immediately ran over to Waylon who looked as if he was about to charge towards Batman again. Madeline put her hands on his chest like she had done before and looked up at him. He didn't look down but she could tell by his breathing and posture that he was calming down a little. She glanced over her shoulder at Batman who was still standing there. Why hadn't he made an attempt to leave yet?

"I still have to take you in Croc." Batman said, practically reading the question in Madeline's mind.

"Like hell you will. I'll eat you alive before I let you put me back in there!" Waylon growled, and Madeline could feel every muscle in his body tense up with animalistic rage. She didn't want him to fight Batman anymore, he had bullet wounds, broken ribs, a chunk of flesh missing, and a broken arm.

"Can't we just run for it? Loose him in the sewers or something?" Madeline asked in a hushed voice. She didn't want him to get hurt anymore, she just wanted to go back to the warehouse and kiss him.

"I'm going to kill him, so you better stand back or you'll get hurt too." Waylon warned, but it kind of sounded more like a threat. Madeline hesitated, she didn't want to let him go. Then she had an idea.

"You're stronger when you're really mad right? Like the hulk or something?" Madeline asked, looking at a surprised Waylon with hope in her eyes.

"Yeah." Waylon said. "But it's hard to calm down afterwards."

"You got any ways for me to calm you down?" Madeline asked, trying to think of calming methods her mother had used when Jack had thrown a hissy fit. "I gotta show my boobs or something?"

"What? No! Maybe? No. Singing. Singing works for me... and boobs." Waylon added, a smirk appearing on his angry face for a moment. "But it's still too dangerous." He had his eyes on Batman still who was quite nicely waiting for them to finish their conversation.

"I'm sure I can manage to calm you down." Madeline said, ignoring Waylon's warning.

"Don't..."

"Okay here goes." Madeline said, taking a deep breath and looking directly at Batman as she spoke. "Batman grabbed my ass."

Madeline was almost knocked over Waylon had charged off so fast and so violently. He lunged at Batman, swinging his good arm and his broken arm at the fast moving bat who only managed to narrowly miss the attacks. Waylon leaped and snapped at Batman, landing on all fours as Batman rolled out of the way, the end of his cape almost catching in Waylon's jaws. Batman was known for his hand to hand combat skills, but not against some of Waylon's size and speed. All he could do was dodge. All Madeline could do was watch and hope for the best. If only he had agreed to make a run for it and not fight, Madeline had no idea what she would do if he got caught and thrown in Arkham. Visit him? How would that even work? Did Arkham Asylum even allow visitors?

Batman charged towards Waylon and leaped into the air, flipping over him and landing behind so when Waylon turned around he received a punch to the face. Batman kept up the bombardment, punching again and again in quick succession so Waylon didn't have a chance to retaliate. Once Waylon had had enough from it and fell to his knees for a moment, Batman brought a knee up and slammed it into Waylon's jaw. Batman quickly leaped back as Waylon snapped, and lunged forward. He was on all fours and pounced like a wild animal, just missing Batman again but was quick to charge again, this time scratching Batman's arm and piercing through the fabric of the suit.

Batman fired his grappling hook and shot up into the air. Waylon followed him with his eyes, growling heavily as Batman retreated to a safe position. Madeline wanted to go over to Waylon and drag him to an escape but she knew it wasn't time to get close yet. She had to keep her distance until the fight was over, otherwise she ran the risk of calming Waylon down too early, or getting caught in the middle of the fight. She watched Batman as he adjusted something on his arm and then grappled across to the other side of the room before flying down. He skimmed over the top of Waylon and then back flipped over him again. Waylon didn't notice but Madeline did, Batman had something in his hand, a tranquilizer or something fixed on his gauntlet. He was trying to get it into Waylon's neck, one of the only places left that wasn't as hard as rock.

Without thinking Madeline ran towards the strange, abandoned gun Penguin had dropped earlier, lifted it up and fired three times. She only just missed the top of Waylon's head and on the third shot managed to hit Batman, sending him flying at super speed into and through the wall. She could hear the sound of screams as Batman landed in the main room of the club, no doubt badly injured but most likely still alive. This was their time to escape without being followed.

Waylon looked like he was about to charge through the wall after Batman so Madeline ran up and blocked his path. She put her hands on his chest but he didn't relax, in fact, he glared at her and growled like a hungry beast. He was right. It was hard to calm him down when he was so worked up. She backed away quickly and Waylon prowled forward, licking his lips and looking hungry. Was he going to try and eat her? Was he actually going to try and eat her? She took as step back for every step forward Waylon took and began to panic as she moved closer to the wall. She would be trapped. She couldn't make a run for it, Waylon was too fast and the sudden movement would make him more violent. What had he said for her to do? Sing? But what song? She racked her brain for the right song, but had no clue where to start. He was black so maybe rap? No, that wasn't calming. A lullaby perhaps, but which one?

Waylon got closer, his mouth drooling like it had before, his tongue hanging out and his breath laboured. He was powerful and strong, his jaws like iron. Would it be painful? Would it take long? Was she going to die? Was _he_ going to be the one to kill her? Before she'd even had a chance to tell him how she felt? What song would work damn it? What could she sing.

"Hush little baby don't say a word," Madeline blurted out, singing the first thing that came into her head. "Mama's going to buy you a mocking bird. And if that mocking bird won't sing, mama's going to buy you a diamond ring..." Waylon didn't stop moving towards her but he did retract his tongue and close his mouth. Madeline felt her back press against the wall and Waylon moved closer, towering over her, his breath on her face.

"And if that diamond ring turns brass, mama's going to buy you a looking glass..."

Waylon stopped, their bodies pressed against each other, so close and yet so far. Madeline found herself unable breath, her chest rising up and down faster and faster as she gasped for air. They're eyes locked, his still slits of black in a sea of toxic yellow, roaring eyes of primal rage. She felt her body quiver, with fear or desire, she didn't know. She swallowed a lump in her throat, her mouth dry and lips begging to be kissed.

"And if that looking glass gets broke, mama's going to buy you..."

Waylon suddenly moved closer, his good hand against the wall and his face dangerously close to hers. She was panting now, her heart practically pounding its way out of her chest.

They're eyes stayed locked, Waylon's pupils starting to dilate back to normal, but they still looked so intense and wild. She wanted him so bad, every inch of her craved his touch, his taste, his powerful body wrapped around her in a passionate death roll of desire. They're lips moved closer, tantalisingly close now, just one more inch and she would get what she had wanted from him all night. She bit her lips and gazed at him, her eyes gazing over with desire as he leaned in closer, so close, almost there. There was no one else in the room, just them, not even the tank and desk was there anymore, just them in whatever room they desired. A bed maybe, soft Egyptian cotton sheets in red, rose petals scattered across the room and dim candle light to illuminate the passion with fire. Ecstasy was on her lips, a prayer to god for them to kiss, to have him all to herself for just one night...

They heard sirens, and the faint sound cut through the air like a knife and sliced the mood to pieces. They both looked away but neither moved, even though they both knew they should run before the police or Batman found them. Madeline took a deep breath.

"You okay?" She asked, glancing up at him. Waylon stayed silent and stared into the distance. Madeline examined him and the smirked.

"I know you're back to normal." She said, lightly punching him in the good arm. "You just want me to show my boobs don't you?" Waylon pursed his lips for a moment and then tried to hide a grin.

"Yeah." He admitted with a smile. "Come on, let's get out of here?"

"What about the cash?" Madeline asked as Waylon crouched to let her get on his back. "And Penguin?"

"Forget about the cash, I got something better planned."

Thankfully Batman was not waiting for them back at the warehouse, and the search for Killer Croc had taken the police downtown and nowhere near the docs. They crept inside and Madeline made a beeline for the boxes in the corner.

"What are looking for?" Waylon asked as he went over to the broken mirror leaning against the wall and examined his injuries. The bullet wounds were starting to heal and the mark from that gun Penguin had fired at him seemed to have disappeared. His arm was still broken however, limp, heavy and useless.

"I'm looking for something for us to do. Gotta keep this party going or I'm going to fall asleep." Madeline said, trying to climb over the boxes in her tight dress that did not allow for much movement. As she bent over to look inside of a box Waylon could almost see her underwear but the dress just covered it. Again, he had seen her in her underwear, but it was way sexier like this. Especially since the dress, hair and makeup made Madeline seem like a classy heiress or something, and getting a peek of _her_ underwear was so much more tantalizing.

"I think there's an old iPod in the box at the back, and there's a speaker system hooked up to the TV." Waylon said, turning his attention back to his busted arm. It wasn't healing like normal, usually it only took about an hour for a broken arm to heal, this was just hanging limp with no change. Unless... Waylon let his arm swing a little, counting to three and then swinging it hard to the right. Like he had expected, he felt a painful crack as the arm locked back into place and movement returned. Turns out it had just been dislocated, would have been nice to know that during his fight with Batman.

Thinking of the fight with Batman reminded Waylon of what had almost happened after the Bat had gone flying through the wall. He'd very nearly attacked Madeline, this time for real. He'd gotten so close to her, he'd been so hungry, all he wanted was to eat her. But then she'd started singing like he'd told her to do, and it had been like an electric shock when he heard those lyrics. It was the same song he'd heard before, back when he'd only just left the circus and was living with some homeless people in an abandoned building. It had been their shelter and he their protected for a time. He remembered occasions where he'd have a nightmare or get really angry about something and lash out, nearly killing one of them. But there had been a nice old lady in that group who sang that same song Madeline had to calm him down. It brought back painful memories, but also nice ones. Especially since once his animalistic side began to fade his stalking became prowling, his growls of hunger growls of desire, and his tongue begged to taste Madeline in a different way to blood and guts. It had been the perfect moment, they'd been so close and both so turned on. But, like usual, the cops ruined it and they had to cut that moment short and return to the warehouse where the mood of the unfinished kiss still lingered.

Waylon slumped down on the couch and watched as Madeline plugged in the iPod, surprised that the thing still had battery. He examined her as she scrolled through the music list, every inch of her body perfect in every way. She'd let her hair down from the princess bun and it hung messy and wild around her face, making her even more desirable. He wanted her, but it wouldn't be right just to try and have her now, especially since the mood had been perfect before. Girls liked the mood to be perfect when they did it, no half baked attempts at a first time.

"Oh my god!" Madeline exclaimed, making Waylon jump.

"What's wrong?" He asked, worried something truly terrible was wrong and the whole evening was ruined yet again.

"I love this song!" Madeline beamed, and clicked the play button and Waylon flopped back down, despairing at how freaked out Madeline had just made him. The music started to play and a familiar sound echoed around the warehouse. Madeline nodded her head to the beat and started to dance, swaying her hips and getting down low. She moved her shoulders and swaggered a bit like a gangster as the music required of her.

"Shawty had them apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur. The whole club was lookin' at her." Madeline sang, slapping her ass and kicked her leg up as she flicked her hair. "She hit the floor, next thing you know shawty got low low low low low low low low." Madeline could hardly hit the low notes but swayed her hips as she got lower and lower to the ground before pushing her ass out as she stood up, showing off her stripper moves. She made eye contact with Waylon and he grinned. He was certainly liking this little performance, and who didn't like a girl who listened to Flo Rida?

"Them baggy sweat pants and the Reebok's with the straps. She turned around and give that big booty a smack." She sang, swinging her hips around wide as she turned to face away from Waylon and slapped her right cheek once. Waylon smirked, god damn it she was sexy, and a good dancer.

"She hit the floor. Next thing you know, Shawty got low low low low low low low low."

Madeline ran her hands through her hair as she lowered down, keeping her back straight as she did so, and then quickly shot back up to saunter over to Waylon who kind of felt like a gangster in a club with the best stripper giving him all the attention he wanted. He could practically imagine piles of cocaine on a glass coffee table, purple and red strobe lighting, people dancing below at _his_ club. That had been his first dream when he moved to Gotham, however, things hadn't turned out the way he'd planned. Then again, if they had and he did own a club with strippers and all the cocaine a drug lord could want, he might never have gotten to know Madeline and experience the most amazing woman he'd ever met.

Madeline straddled Waylon's lap with her knees on the couch either side of him. She put her hands on his shoulders and smirked as she looked into his eyes and grinded her hips lightly against him.

"You want a lap dance?" She asked, flicking her hair to the other side so half of it hung over one eye as she bit her lip.

"I thought you only gave lap dances to the big criminals?" Waylon asked, running his hand up Madeline's thigh. Her skin felt so good, and so smooth, like creamy white silk.

"Well you are a criminal." Madeline explained, leaning in to whisper in Waylon's ear. "And from what I can feel, you seem pretty big to me." Her words in his ear send tingles throughout his body and he moved his hand to Madeline's lower back and pulled her a little closer.

"Is that right?" He asked with a mischievous grin. Madeline giggled and licked her lips, straightening her back so she was taller than Waylon, her breasts at the same level as his face. Waylon got a little giddy for a second, he'd never actually been this close to breasts before, they were even better in real life than they were in HD.

"So you want a dance or not?" Madeline asked, running her finger down the side of Waylon's face, down his neck and stopping at his chest.

"Oh yeah baby, show me what you got. But I don't a tip or anything for ya?"

"Oh honey," Madeline said, hopping of Waylon's lap and taking a few steps back to begin her dance. "I'll take more than just a tip."

It was amazing Waylon did blow his top just from that comment alone, but he managed to hold it together as Madeline went over to the iPod and changed the music. She licked her lips as ' _Candy Shop_ ' began to play and sashayed over, rolling her body to the rhythm and running her hands over her body. One hand travelled down from her right shoulder, across her collarbone and down the side of her left breast as the other ran down her hip and onto her leg. She sang along with Olivia's lyrics when they came up and slowly turned around, swaying her hips from left to right as she slowly moved backwards, putting her hands out front and clicking along with the beat.

She shook her ass and bounced lightly, almost coming in contact with Waylon but just missing him by an inch. Waylon wanted to reach out and grab her hips to guide her onto him but he knew strippers had a no touching rule so he used all the willpower he could muster to keep his arms by his side. Madeline looked over her shoulder at him, her green eyes gleaming with mischief and tantalising desire.

"You wanna unzip me?" She proposed, the words sounding passive aggressive order from dungeon mistress. Waylon was quick to reach for the top of the dress but Madeline reached out and put her hand on his arm.

"Slowly." She whispered, her expression one of anticipation. Waylon attempted to oblige and very slowly pulled the zip down, the metal running smoothly as the red dress parted, revealing a pathway across her body that lead to the land of milk and honey.

Madeline pulled away and sauntered forward, slowly pulling the sleave of the dress down over her shoulder. She peaked over at Waylon as she did so, her eyes saying ' _take me_ ' but her body so far away. She lowered the other sleeve and shimmed her body so the dress slipped down over her curves, her bare back exposed. Waylon had to grip the couch and ripped into the fabric with his claws. She wasn't wearing a bra! Madeline slipped the dress all the way down and it landed at her feet. She stepped out of it wearing nothing but a very lacy thong, and turned around, one arm covering her breasts.

She moved forward, running her free hand over her body and quickly swapping them so Waylon never saw her whole breast exposed at once. She pursed her lips and put both of her hands on Waylon's shoulders, but before Waylon had a chance to look at the naked breasts Madeline pulled herself forward onto his lap, her breasts pressing against Waylon's chest and their lips tantalizingly close once more. She put her hands behind Waylon's head, holding him delicately as she leaned in close. Her eyes were that of a temptress, so beautiful and yet dangerous. Good thing Waylon was dangerous too.

He moved quickly and spun them around, Madeline landing on the couch and he on top of her. He held her jaw with his thumb and finger and tilted her head up before mashing their lips together. Finally, he was kissing her. His tongue delve into her mouth and he felt Madeline's hands on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He had to be careful not to fall on top of her though, he did weigh 580lb.

Waylon felt Madeline wrap her legs around his waist and lock her feet together. He slipped his hand under her back and pulled her up so she was on his lap again. He kissed down her neck and stopped briefly to nibble at her neck, making her squeal with delight. He kissed her shoulder and down across her chest, kissing her breasts before she tilted his head up and looked into his eyes, her face blushing red and her breath laboured.

"Take me." She gasped. "Take me now!" She ran her hands all over his body, across his pecks, over his biceps, across his abbs. He didn't need telling twice he was about to burst as it was. He hooked a claw inside of Madeline's thong and pulled, ripping the fabric and tossing it across the room.

Waylon pulled her close and Madeline knelt up so he could get his damn zipper open. His manhood sprang free, desperate for a warm sheath and he held it firm as Madeline sat back down, slipping inside of her and making her gasp with ecstasy. It had been a while since Waylon had done this, and the whole night had been making it difficult for him to restrain himself, but he had to hold off, he could go and embarrass himself by blowing his lid in mere seconds.

Madeline pressed her lips against his again, her whole body moving in time with his thrusts, pressing against him down to the hilt as he guided her with his hands on her hips. So deep, so hot, so good! He had never had it like this before, never this amazing. Sure he'd had sex with prostitutes but this, this was beyond anything he had ever imagined it could be. This was passionate, this was intense, this was desire and lust wrapped up in one hot little body riding him to the edge of the earth. She moaned as they moved, her gasps of pleasure a heavenly sound to Waylon's ears. His mind was racing, his head spinning, his eyes unsure on whether to dilate or become savage slits. He wanted to lose control a little, let his animal side come out and give Madeline the best time of her life. He wanted to pound her against the wall, on the floor, from all angles and all positions. He wanted to fill her up and take her again and again.

"Oh god!" Madeline gasped, parting their lips to throw her head back and gasp. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." She let out a loud and warbled moan as her body clenched tightly around Waylon. The pressure was so intense and so hot, almost burning in fact, that Waylon couldn't hold it back anymore either and practically roared as his hot seed spurted inside of her. It was the most extreme orgasm he had ever felt and it seemed to last for a lifetime. He wanted to stay on the edge, that moment when the pleasure hits its peak and hovers at the top before fading. Madeline looked to be at that point too, her eyes squeezed tight and her mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy. She was holding her breath as she went over the peak and then let out a satisfied sigh as she came down from the carnal high. Waylon felt himself do the same, his hands tightening on Madeline's hips and his mind spinning. He tried to speak. He wanted to tell her something. He wanted to say those three words, those eight letters! But he couldn't quite manage it, and the next thing he knew he was falling asleep, Madeline on his chest breathing lightly, her eyes shut but still an expression of ecstasy on her face.

"I love you." He whispered, but he knew she couldn't hear him.

 **Phew things got steamy up in here. Finally, they hooked up, and we know that they both love each other but haven't said anything yet. The idea for the Hush Little Baby song comes from the comic Requiem for a Killer Batman #471 (1991). Its a good read so check it out and keep an eye out for updates because I seem to be writing them at a super sonic rate.**


	11. Chapter 10

**This is a short chapter and its all Madeline so please bare with me, there will be more Waylon next chapter and more fun times for the both of them.**

 **Chapter 10**

After a quick trip back to the strip club to grab her handbag and clothes, Madeline called a taxi and headed home. The sun was starting to get higher in the sky as the morning continued and Madeline suddenly felt a wave of sleep come over her. She had to stay awake just a little longer and then she could get some much needed sleep. Sure she'd a bit of a nap on Waylon's chest but the sun had come through the window of the warehouse at just the wrong angle and woke her up after about an hour and a half. It had been kinda awkward as Madeline got dressed and they'd hardly said anything on the trip through the sewers to the strip club. Was everything different now because they'd had sex. Was it nothing like Waylon had expected, or was it that now he'd gotten what he wanted he was no longer interested in her.

Madeline didn't know exactly what _she_ wanted, she couldn't exactly suggest they go one dates and be a couple, it wasn't practical. Still, she kinda wanted that though. He was an interesting guy with a lot of scars and she felt the need to be there to help heal them but also encourage him to have a bit of fun with the risk of getting more. He was wild and exhilarating, but also compassionate in his own weird way, wasn't that what every girl wanted in a guy, a beef cake with feelings. But it still felt weird though. She'd hooked up with guys before and had plenty of one night stands but this was different. Upon leaving she felt like she was leaving some behind but couldn't quite put her finger on it, and she hadn't said anything when Waylon helped her out of the manhole and closed the entrance behind him. She should have said something, knowing Waylon's obvious self consciousness he probably thought she was being quiet because she regretted having sex with him, that she was appalled and disgusted by him, which was not the case. It had been amazing for her, and for him she speculated going off that deafening roar he did upon climax, yet why didn't she say anything? Why didn't _he_ say something? Why didn't anyone say or do anything.

Stalking up the stairs to her apartment while mentally slapping herself for not saying anything to him, she put her key in the door but found it was already unlocked. Was it was thief, someone robbing her, or people looking for her. The hectic and wild night she'd had made her forget about the fact it had began by giving a lap dance to Joker, and that of course had lead to Waylon's fear that Madeline would be in danger. Could this be Joker's men? Penguin's men? Some other people that wanted to use her as leverage? She began to wonder if it would even work now that they'd had such an awkward parting, if she got kidnapped would he come for her, or would she just end up getting ' _disposed of'_. She'd like to think he'd come for her, and if he didn't she would certainly regret everything she felt for him.

When Candy had joined the dots and exposed Madeline's feelings, Madeline hadn't been able to say anything in response. She didn't _want_ to protest against it, but she hadn't admitted that it was true, not to herself at least and certainly not to Waylon. Did he feel the same way? Had they just been acting the same way and not saying anything because the whole situation was weird to them both. He was a giant, cannibalistic crocodile man, he probably wasn't familiar with such feelings and considering how emotionally stunted he was he wouldn't express them straight after getting sex, something she suspected he didn't get very often.

Madeline pushed the door open just a crack and peered inside, scanning the area for potential kidnappers. She didn't spot any thugs in clown masks or penguin suits or whatever style their boss wanted them. What she did see however, was a certain stripper resembling a psychotic ex psychiatrist looking for Madeline's hidden stash of money.

"Paula!" Madeline shouted, making her friend jump and spin around. Paula went pale, as if she had just seen a ghost.

"Madeline?" She exclaimed, sounding unsure with her words. "You're alive?"

"Yes I'm alive, are you looking for my savings?" Madeline snapped, folding her arms. Paula was a nice girl but she was a bit of a thief and an opportunist. No doubt she'd thought Madeline was dead and rushed over to the apartment to find the decent amount of cash Madeline had saved up over the years. She didn't want all of her money in the bank because rich strippers got into trouble and often ended up broke afterwards, so her bank account stayed modest and her mattress stuffed with cash.

"The manager said that if you died I got all your stuff." Paula explained, putting her hands on her hips. "We assumed you were dead after you went to give that clown a lap dance and never came out again. Where have you been?" Madeline felt a little guilty for assuming her friend only wanted the money, which she probably did, and went over to the kitchenette to make herself a coffee. She had a bit of headache from thinking too much about things between her and Waylon.

"So, where'd you go. Did the clown take you somewhere?" Paula asked, sitting down the edge of the bed.

"No, he left after about ten minutes. I stayed the night at a guy's... place." Madeline explained, careful with what she said. She couldn't exactly say he lived in a warehouse by the docks now could she, or that he was a nine foot tall crocodile.

"A guy? What guy? You had a hook up?" Paula asked, confused and sounding a little concerned. "How did you go from lap dancing to hooking up with a guy different to the person receiving the lap dance."

"I met him a few weeks ago, he just swung by and took me on night out, I didn't feel like working anymore that night anyway." Madeline said, pouring the hot water into the mug. It wasn't a lie, just fabricated truth.

"A night out? Like a party or something?"

"Not really, we went on a bit of a joy ride of sorts, some breaking and entering, crashed a party, and almost got caught by the cops."

Madeline took a sip from her coffee, the hot nectar warming her throat and giving her just that little bit more energy.

"That's more than just a little night out!" Paula exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "Did you guys have sex?"

"Yeah." Madeline admitted, taking another sip of coffee.

"And? Was it any good?"

Madeline hesitated for a moment and then decided to tell the truth.

"It was the best night of my life." She confessed, sending Paula into a full on girly scream of excitement.

"Oh my god!" She gasped, practically leaping up and down on the bed. "And you're really fussy too. This guy must be something else if he can get you to hang out with him and give you the best night of your life. Is he anything like _The_ _Guy_?"

"Who?"

"You know. _That_ guy you met when you were sixteen. You told me you'd never found another guy who made you feel the way _that_ guy did, even though you only met for like ten minutes. I forget his name, what was it?"

"Jones?" Madeline suggested, taking a nervous sip of coffee. She'd completely forgotten she'd told Paula about Waylon, or rather ' _Jones_ ' who she'd met at an undisclosed event when she was sixteen. What Paula was saying was true though, she had felt something when she'd been talking to him after the show, and that moment when their eyes met as he was leaving after the crocodile wrestle that still sent electric shocks throughout her body just thinking about it. She never had found anyone that made her feel like that, the instant attraction and desire. Sure she'd dated but the longest relationship she'd ever had was only about six months. Normal guys just didn't do it for her, not really. She'd been craving that spark of desire, and just when she'd given up on it, they'd gotten that appointment with Penguin's thugs.

"Actually," Madeline added, deciding to utilize Paula's extensive relationship experience. "It _was_ the guy."

"No way!" Paula shouted, leaping off the bed. "So was it like you expected. Is he everything you wanted in a man?"

"Kinda." Madeline shrugged. "I dunno. This morning was awkward."

"Awkward how? He ugly in the light or something?" Paula suggested. Madeline snorted.

"No it's not that. It's just... Everything was so amazing last night and the chemistry was off the Richter Scale, but after we woke up and I came home we didn't say anything. It just felt awkward. I'm kinda worried that _that_ was it."

Paula thought for a moment, stroking her chin like a wise old master.

"Do you love him?" She asked blankly, catching Madeline of guard.

"What?"

"Do you love him? Do you see yourself with him in the future, like kids and a house and stuff?"

Madeline laughed at the suggestion. She could practically see it in her head, a stupid and hilarious image. Waylon in all his reptile glory in a white shirt and suit pants with a tie heading off to work in the family estate car. White picket fence, green grass, friendly neighbours who came over just a little too often to be comfortable with, a freshly made pie on the windowsill, the whole thing was just ridiculous.

"What's so funny?" Paula asked, etching away from Madeline as her friend started to laugh even louder like a crazy person.

"It's just... I'm sorry, the thought of him acting normal is just too funny." Madeline giggled, wiping a tear from her eye.

"Oh." Paula realised, her expression turning to disappointment. "It's one of _those_ relationships."

"What do you mean?" Madeline asked, finally silencing her giggles.

"You know the ones. He's the wild guy that can't be tamed yet here comes along the one girl that can tame him, but he's just so animalistic and passionate that the relationship can only exist in that world of danger."

"I'm lost." Madeline said, shaking her head. What was Paula going on about?

"Think about it." Paula said, getting a little overenthusiastic. "At the end of every erotic novel it never says they lived happily ever after. Sure it ends with some amazing climax in both narrative and sexual terms, but it never indicates what their future is going to be. Can the relationship exist as they get older and want to settle down, or are they going to be horny rabbits when they're over 50 and keep on living that _wild_ life."

"I'm still not following you." Madeline lied, she had an inkling as to what Paula was alluding to.

"My point is, how do you see this relationship ending? Do you see yourself growing old with this guy and having a family and being happy together until you die. Or can you only see the erotic novel ending where so many questions are left unanswered and the readers wondering what became of them ten, twenty, thirty years down the track."

"Okay Paula." Madeline interrupted, putting her hand up to silence her friend. "I think that is enough. You are depressing me."

"No but it's true. I read this story about a girl who liked two guys. One was handsome but calm and steady, the kind of guy you married. While the other was this sexy and wild animal of a man who drove her crazy with desire but ultimately she realised that there was no future with the second guy and chose the first."

"Okay, yeah no. Can you leave now." Madeline demanded, pushing her friend to the door.

"I'm just trying to help."

"Yeah well don't. I'm tired and I want to go to sleep. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

Madeline slammed the door shut and sighed heavily. Paula did have a point, even if they got over this awkward little scenario what did the future hold for them. Usually when you committed to a relationship you went in assuming this person would be with you for the rest of your life, but Madeline couldn't exactly be a stripper forever, and it wasn't like she could live a happy little wifey life in a warehouse at the docs. She'd be like a homeless person, not to mention the looming threat of Batman swooping in a ruining it all. Plus the idea of kids with Waylon made her feel funny. On the one hand it would be cute to see a giant crocodile coo over a little baby, but then again it would be freaking weird to have a family like that. Would the baby look like him? He had said he killed his mother when he was born. Would Madeline die too? The whole thing was so weird and difficult to wrap her head around it only made the headache worse.

"You should listen to your friend." A familiar and deep voice said.

"Holy shit!" Madeline yelled as Batman swooped into the room through the open window. He didn't seem injured despite the gun Madeline had used on him. Was he here to arrest her for that?

"What the hell are you doing here?" Madeline exclaimed, her back pressed against the door.

"Checking on you." Batman said in his boring monotone voice. It was weird that he was out in the daytime, no shadows to hide in.

"Checking that I'm in one piece? Hate to disappoint you but I haven't had any chunks of flesh taken out of me so no, I won't tell you where he is."

"That's not why I came." Batman explained, glaring at Madeline who was trying her very best to keep her chiroptophobia under control but she couldn't get over the fact that he was dressed like a flying rodent.

"Then what did you come for?" Madeline snapped, stalking over to her coffee and gulping the rest of it down.

"I need you to take this." Batman said, tossing a box over to Madeline to almost dropped it. She examined the packaging.

"Levonor... Wait a minute this is a morning after pill!" Madeline hissed, throwing the box back at Batman who didn't bother to catch it. "I don't need that!"

"You sure?"

"I'm on the pill."

"Just to be safe..."

"It's none of your fucking business." Madeline growled through clenched teeth.

Where the fuck did Batman get off on making her take a morning after pill. She didn't need it, and even if she did it wasn't his place to give it to her.

"I'll leave it here then." Batman said, picking up the box and placing it on the kitchen counter.

"Fine. Now can you please leav...?"

"You should listen to your friend you know." Batman added, cutting Madeline off mid sentence. "She's right. This relationship has no longevity, you'd be better off with a nice guy not someone dangerous and Croc is _very_ dangerous."

"A nice guy huh? Know any? Does Bruce Wayne need a girlfriend, because if I have to settle for a _nice guy_ he better be loaded."

"I don't think Bruce Wayne is a _nice guy_." Batman corrected.

"Well that doesn't really matter does it, he's human so that will keep you happy won't it. So long as I'm not with anyone _different_. God forbid a girl actually cares about what's on the inside."

Madeline knew she was being a bit contradictory but she didn't care, plus Waylon was sexy in his own way, he was certainly muscular enough.

"You'll get hurt..."

"I don't care!" Madeline yelled, tossing her mug at Batman who stepped to the side and let it hit the wall. She knew she shouldn't be throwing things at Batman, he was _Batman_ , but he was also being a giant dickhead and butting into things he knew nothing about.

"Fine. So long as you're happy with being eaten alive." Batman said, turning to leave via the open window he came in through.

"It's called getting _eaten out_ , and I'm fine with that!" Madeline yelled out of her window as the Batman disappeared. A passer by looked up at her with confusion.

"What are you looking at? Never see a girl scream at a bat before?" Madeline yelled, starting to tear up she was so angry.

She slammed her window shut and screamed into her pillow. She'd never been this angry before, and Batman's pestering only made her want to see Waylon again and be with him even more just to spite the dark night for trying to intervene in her love affairs. She curled up with one pillow in-between her legs, she'd gotten to angry that cramps had come along to make her day even worse. The feeling of cramps and reminder of the menstrual cycle made Madeline glance over at the morning after pill on the counter. She didn't need it, she was on the pill, she'd be fine right? After much deliberation and more painful cramps she grabbed the box and poured herself a glass of water.

"I'm only doing this as a precaution." She said, pretending she was talking to the Batman. "Not because you told me to."

 **So yeah as you can gather I'm speaking through Paula in this chapter. I hate it when stories just end and leave so many questions unanswered, especially dangerous romance ones like this where you just can't picture a happy family coming out of it. Don't worry, the story is far from being over, still got plenty of chapters to go and more locations to visit including Arkham Asylum. Please write reviews for this chapter and any other chapters, I really love it when you write reviews because it lets me know people are still reading and enjoying my story (like seriously, I check it every day).**


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The heavy boxes of explosives were easy to move from one place to another, however, if became increasingly difficult to do so when Waylon's employer continuously preached about his own intelligence, like a narcissistic sermon. The criminals of Gotham usually hired him for muscle work, be it heavy lifting or roughing someone up. Disposal was another reason but since Penguin had enslaved him for that very job he had decided to pass on any offers of that nature. It felt good to be doing some work again, and took his mind of the fact Madeline hadn't been around since _that_ night.

"Riddle me this. I have keys but no locks. I have space but no room. You can enter, but you can't go outside. What am I?"

Waylon groaned and rolled his eyes, placing another box amongst the ever growing pile. Did this guy ever shut the hell up? It was like he loved listening to his own voice, which he probably did.

"Got you stumped. I'm a keyboard!" Riddler announced triumphantly, throwing his arms in the air and swinging his legs as he sat on one of the boxes Waylon was yet to move. "How about another, I'll make it an easy one. I can only live where there is light, but I die if the light shines on me."

"How am I supposed to know." He mumbled, picking up another box and lugging it over.

"A shadow!" Riddler giggled. "That was as easy as 3.14159265359..."

"Oh for god's sake shut up." Waylon pleaded, dropping the box and glaring at the annoying man in green. He hated the stuck up nerd, but unlike most other criminals in Gotham, Riddler actually paid Waylon for his services in full _before_ the plan was foiled by Batman, not afterwards like Penguin did providing the plan actually worked, and certainly not half before and half after like Twoface insisted on doing.

"Pie." Riddler grumbled, glaring back at Waylon for interrupting him. "As easy as Pie, or more specifically Pi, the ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter."

"Again, shut the hell up."

"If you keep acting rude I'll dock your pay." Riddler threatened cheerfully.

"No you won't." Waylon said without missing a beat in an equally as cheerful tone.

"No I won't." Riddler admitted sheepishly, looking down. The guy was smart enough to know that Waylon would break every bone in his body if he skimped on the pay. He was scrawny and slow moving, better behind a desk rather than in the midst of the fighting, hence why he insisted on making it impossibly difficult for anyone to find him. Even Batman seemed to get tired of all the puzzles and just give up to do something better for a while. The man was annoying and obnoxious, a combination that usually sent Waylon into a violent rage.

"Okay one more." Riddler insisted after only one blissful moment of silence. "What flies when it is born, lies when it is alive, and runs when it is dead? Give up? A snowflake!"

"I don't even _understand_ that one." Waylon complained, shaking his head. He was dumb he knew that, but Riddler just made him feel retarded. Were people supposed to get that riddle, because it sounded like a load of bullshit. He felt vaguely sorry for the people who would get blown up because Batman couldn't solve that impossible Riddle.

"That is because you my friend are not as intelligent and genius as I. Then again, no one is, not even the great detective can outwit me." Riddler announced, inflating his own ego some more, not that it needed it.

"Hasn't he already captured you a dozen times? That sounds like outwitting you to me."

Riddler glared at Waylon again who grinned with satisfaction.

"He cheated."

"Did he Ed? Did he really?"

"YES HE DID!" Riddler yelled, getting to his feet to try and look intimidating but even for a relatively tall guy he was still tiny in comparison to Waylon, and weak too in his scruffy green shirt covered in drawn on question marks. Waylon just looked at Riddler and shook his head, which only made the scrawny man angrier, and thus more entertaining.

Riddler slumped down on his seat with his arms folded like an angry toddler.

"At least I'm smart enough to know to not charge in headfirst swinging my fists like a buffoon when fighting Batman. Hence why you've been in Arkham more than I have." Riddler grumbled, trying to take a jab at Waylon where he could which was surprising since that usually made him go violent. Luckily for Riddler however, Waylon was thinking about other things, like Madeline and when he was going to see her again and _if_ he would ever see her again. They had both been so quiet when he'd taken her home, neither of them had decided on what to do in the future or if they even had a future.

The thought of the future did puzzle Waylon a little though. He didn't quite know exactly _how_ the future would pan out if Madeline was to be in it. He couldn't be a criminal forever, and if he had Madeline around he certainly wouldn't want to die young like he had originally intended. He would especially like to stay out of Arkham Asylumn too so Madeline wasn't alone for extended periods of time, he didn't want to do that to her. But what _did_ that leave for the future. He was a fool to think they could have a family together, the thought of it was just absurd, and if the kid was like him then Madeline would most likely die. Where the hell would they even live, a shack out in the middle of nowhere, that was no life for anyone, especially someone as vibrant and sociable as Madeline. If none of those ideas sounded right though, didn't that tell him there was _no_ future? He didn't want to accept that as a reality.

"...honestly if you keep falling for the same old attack method he uses then you've seriously got to consider..." Riddler droned, and Waylon hadn't realised the guy had kept on talking.

"Okay, okay I get it. I'm dumb, you're smart, whatever." Waylon interrupted, praying Riddler would end his endless droning.

"Hmm. You're being unusually docile today. What's wrong with you?" Riddler asked, curiously stroking his chin and peering at Waylon. Waylon was going to grumble and tell Riddler to shut up but he hesitated long enough to consider the fact, one that Riddler had been repeatedly pointing out all day, that Riddler was smart. Perhaps he could provide a solution to the little Madeline problem, or at least help Waylon figure out why she hadn't been around to see him.

"You have any experience with women?" Waylon asked blankly, catching Riddler of guard.

"Women? Why the hell do you need to know that?" Riddler asked, now he was the confused one.

"Because you're the only guy that might know anything about dealing with women. Penguin buys 'em, Twoface practically dates himself, and Joker is Joker so that really only leaves you which isn't saying much since I assume you've never gotten laid in your life."

"What the hell gives you that impression?" Riddler exclaimed, his eyes growing wide with fear rather than shock. Yep, he was a virgin alright, or at least had never had anyone other than prostitutes. It wasn't really that surprising, the guy was too annoying and would probably talk the whole way through. That and he was crazy.

"So what did you do when you were a high school nerd struggling to ask a girl to prom? Or rather, what would you have done if you'd ever climbed out of that locker I assume you were stuffed in every lunch time."

"It is quite obvious you never went to high school."

"Yes but am I wrong?"

Riddler scowled at Waylon.

"Why do you need to know about women?" He asked through gritted teeth, clearly annoyed.

"What do you do with them?" Waylon asked, not really phrasing the question correctly. He didn't really know what he was asking.

"I'd imagine _you'd_ eat them." Riddler grumbled bitterly. Waylon rolled his eyes, cannibal jokes were not funny unless he made them.

"Not this one. What do I do to keep a woman I had sex with come back and spend time with me?"

"Woah woah woah." Riddler said, putting his hands up to slow Waylon down a little. "Back track for a moment there. You had sex?"

"Yes."

"With a woman?"

"Yes."

"For free?"

"Yes."

"Willingly?"

"Yes for fucks sake, she wasn't drunk, drugged or unconscious, and she enjoyed it. Now how do I make her come back."

Riddler thought for another moment, narrowing his eyes as his genius mind set to work on answering this question.

"I do not know." He admitted after a considerable amount of time.

"How can you not know. You're supposed to be smart." Waylon snapped, growling as he spoke.

"Well I suppose I can hypothesize. Is she real?"

"Yes you asshole she is real."

"Is she ugly? She might be embarrassed to show her face." Riddler theorised, only making Waylon angry. Madeline was far from being ugly, but could she be embarrassed of _him_?

"No, she's gorgeous." Waylon corrected with a snarl. "We had sex and it was great, but she didn't say a word to me on the way back to her place and hasn't contacted me since. What do I do?"

"Hmm, well did you say anything to her?" Riddler asked and Waylon's growling went silent. He hadn't said anything because he felt awkward that Madeline hadn't said anything.

"You didn't did you? Idiot. The poor girl probably has the same mind set as you. You are both wondering why the other person hasn't come to see you yet and why neither of you said anything, making yourselves worry for nothing." Riddler suggested, hitting the nail on the head like a tonne of bricks. "That or she really is embarrassed that she slept with you and is avoiding you because of it. Pick whichever one you like I don't really care."

Waylon turned and picked up another box to move as he thought to himself. He certainly prayed it was the former of the two, would be more easily solved. It would be funny if the whole thing was down to them both being awkward and worrying about stuff they didn't need to worry about. However, he did have a nagging thought that it was the latter and Madeline really was avoiding him because she was embarrassed of what she'd done. It certainly wouldn't be unbelievable for that to be true, but he hoped it wasn't the case. Especially since he had told he loved her, and whether or not she had heard that remained to be unseen. Then the penny dropped. What if things had been awkward because she'd heard him say that and the idea of it freaked her out. Maybe that was it, or maybe he was just clinging to whatever paranoid idea he could think of.

"So does this girl have a friend?" Riddler asked, snapping Waylon out of his paranoid thoughts with an unexpected question.

"What?"

"Does she have a friend? Preferably single, for me I mean." Riddler asked, still managing to sound like an narcissistic asshole.

"She does have a friend, but not for you."

"Why not. I'm handsome, charming, intellectual..."

"Self absorbed." Waylon added without missing a beat. Riddler glared at him again but continued anyway.

"I'm a real catch. There just aren't any women good enough for me." Riddler announced, practically kissing his own ass he was so full of himself.

"You mean good enough at putting up with your constant narcissistic droning?" Waylon grumbled, placing the box down at the nearly complete pile.

Waylon did wonder however, what it was that Madeline saw in him that made her want to be around him in the first place, or at least _had_ wanted to be around him. He wasn't smart, he wasn't particularly charming, and he certainly wasn't handsome. Was it because of a lack of these things that she was staying away, was the sex alone not enough to keep her around. Of course it wasn't, she was a woman, they wanted more than sex, like flowers and chocolates, long walks on the beach, romantic dinners, that sort of thing, none of which _he_ could manage, not really. Then he had an idea.

"Do you think perhaps she is staying away from me because we haven't been on a date?" He asked, startling Riddler a little with his question.

"Perhaps." Riddler said. "It could be a possibility since I assume you went straight from strangers to sex with nothing in-between, and women do usually like to go on dates."

"So perhaps if I ask her on a couple dates she'll come around more often?"

"Maybe. That all depends if she isn't embarrassed about sleeping with you. Also, where would you go?" Riddler asked, a valid question. Not many places accepted wanted criminals for dinner, especially not giant cannibalistic crocodile ones.

"Penguin does own an underground club for super criminals, the Spoilt Rose or something profane like that." Riddler suggested. "I don't think he has any parties coming up though."

"Not Penguin. He and I are on bad terms." Waylon admitted as he moved the last box to the pile.

"Well I'm sure you will work something out." Riddler said, hopping off his box so Waylon could move it. "From what I've observed women like grand gestures of romance or simple dates that make them feel like they could be anywhere with you and still have a good time. It's a common trick. Ice-cream on the beach, watching the stars, something simple that makes them feel like your relationship is unique and special because of the simplicity, despite the fact that this is overused in every romance movie making it rather mundane and ordinary."

"You're fun at parties aren't you?"

"I'm giving you advice here, take it or leave it, you don't have to be rude about it." Riddler grumbled, turning on his heel to leave the room now that the explosives had been set and he could commence his devious plan or whatever it was Riddler did to get Batman's attention.

"Thank you then." Waylon said as he was about to follow the other hallway to the sewer entrance. They were under the Gotham Bank in the ruins of the old Gotham so there was an extensive network of tunnels and systems for him to use to get around the city.

"You're welcome." Riddler said, sounding surprised at Waylon's manners.

After a moment of thought Riddler turned around again just as Waylon was about to crawl back into the sewers.

"Hey," he called awkwardly. "Did you want to get a drink some time, catch a game or something?" He asked, failing miserably at this manly friendship crap.

"I'm not your friend Riddler." Waylon said as he lifted the cover to the tunnel he had come in through. "You're an annoying little bitch." And with that he dove into the water and followed the tunnel back to his warehouse, racking his brain for a date idea along the way.

 **Yeah so Waylon and Riddler had a chat, thought I'd get some more characters in there but this chapter is overall kind of boring but necessary. God Riddler is annoying though. Anyway, Waylon is overthinking things way too much, which is a surprisingly common characteristic in dumb people (like my ex boyfriend for example) that usually ruins everything, but can he think of a date idea to keep Madeline coming back for him, and what kind of date will he take her on? Find out next time.**


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Madeline felt like the day was never going to end, and the endless crowds of adoring horny men only seemed to make the long slog more unbearable. They cheered and catcalled as twirled on the pole, the noise just blending in with the music, and the attempts to flirt with her and suggest she go with them to a _private party_ became so repetitive that she thought it was groundhog day. Today the strip club was home to a large all day party of young and rowdy footballers who were all reasonably good looking, but did kind of all look the same. They had been there since lunchtime and now that the sun was setting things were starting to get a little out of control.

"Come here babe, wanna ride this stallion?" One of the footballs asked, slouching in his seat so Madeline had a full view of his crotch. She hung upside down from the pole and glared at him.

"Maybe later." She lied in the least convincing sexy voice ever. She wasn't feeling it today, and she didn't fancy feeling the footballers either. The last couple of weeks had just made her feel depressed about everything, even partying which she loved to do on a daily basis. All she'd wanted to do was go back down to the docks and see Waylon again, but since Batman had paid her an unexpected visit she was paranoid he was watching her and would follow her to find where Waylon was hiding. She couldn't risk it, not yet at least, perhaps in another few weeks.

But she was getting worried about what Waylon would think of her. Perhaps her absence would make him think she was just some whore who liked to get freaky and then leave. No, that couldn't be it, if she was like that she would have done it earlier, not after the Penguin heist failure. Still, he hadn't been to see her yet, so what was the guy doing with his time. There hadn't been anything on the news about a Killer Croc arrest so he wasn't back in Arkham. Why didn't he come and see her?

"Maddy." The manager called from the bar, beckoning Madeline over. Madeline slid off the pole and quickly hopped down off the stage, pushing past the men trying to grope her and up the steps to the bar. What had she done now? Not been intimate enough with the customers? She had been kind of rude to them, but the manager didn't really pull her up on stuff like that. Yet again, the manager looked scared and worried, sweat dripping down his face and a loose tie. What was it this time? Another Joker lap dance?

"You got another _big_ customer, requested you specifically." The manager explained, again looking like a doctor telling a patient they were going to die very soon.

"I thought we weren't taking customers today because of the football party?" Madeline asked, putting her hands on her hips and cocking her head to the side.

"Well I daren't turn this thing down, he might eat me." The manager fretted, and Madeline's face lit up with a smile. He'd come for her, and this had to be him.

"Just be sure, we're talking about a giant crocodile right?" She asked, her calmness surprising the terrified manager.

"Yes, but..."

"Okay this time I need you to give me a bigger cut of the pay." Madeline interrupted, deciding to milk the managers lack of knowledge about her relationship with Waylon for all it was worth. "And since these _big customers_ like to take their purchases home with them, I most likely won't be back until tomorrow. But please don't let Paula go through my stuff again, and don't assume I'm dead."

"But this guy is a..."

"I know what he is, but work is work and men are men, regardless of what they look like. Do we have a deal?"

"Um, yeah I guess." The manager agreed, peering at Madeline with slight suspicion, but Madeline had already turned on her heel and skipped off to the backroom for the private dance with this _big_ customer.

When she pulled back the curtains of the private booth she practically jumped into Waylon's arms.

"Oh my god I am so sorry I haven't been around." She apologised profusely, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing him as tightly as she could manage.

"Huh?" Waylon said, taken aback by the sudden display of affection. No doubt he'd thought Madeline wasn't interested in him anymore. Or perhaps _he_ wasn't interested in _her_ anymore. The sudden and horrible thought popped into Madeline's head like a tumour and made her pull away from him, dread on her face.

"You came to see me for a dance right?" She asked, unable to hide her fears which were a lot more prominent than she'd originally anticipated. She was so scared he'd say something like ' _I never want to see you again_ ' and cut her out of his life. She wanted to be in his life, and now that everyone she knew had told her not be she only wanted to be with him more.

"Not exactly." Waylon said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Madeline felt the pain in her chest, like an icy dagger had just pierced her heart and someone rubbed salt into the wound. Her stomach sank as Waylon explained.

"I think I get why it was so weird after we, you know, did it, the other week, and I don't really know how to say this." Waylon mumbled, not making eye contact with Madeline. Was it really that bad? Why did he have to try and go with sweet and apologetic for this, why couldn't he just rip the bandaid off like an asshole, make it easier. It wasn't like they were dating or anything, but it felt like she was breaking up with a long term boyfriend she had planned to be with forever.

"Will you go on a date with me?"

Madeline froze. What? What had he just asked? A date? A date with him? Before she knew it she raised her hand and delivered one hard slap across his face. Now Waylon was the one who froze up, looking more shocked than enraged.

"What was that for?" He asked, almost looking emotionally hurt.

"Never do that with me!" Madeline yelled, wanting to slap him again but she figured he might just go a little savage if she did that. "I thought you were breaking up with me, ending it once and for all because you didn't want to be with me. You come out with all this ' _not knowing how to say this_ ' bullshit and freaking me the hell out. I was about ready to jump of a building after all that dramatic suspense. Don't ever do that again!" Waylon looked at her with a puzzled but somewhat happy expression, his eyes had a little spark of excitement in them.

"So is that a yes?" He asked, sounding like a giddy high schooler finally getting a date to prom.

"Of course it is you big idiot. Just don't freak me out like that again okay?" Madeline warned, folding her arms and stamping her foot.

Inside however, she was less angry and had butterflies in her stomach, a feeling she wasn't used to. No one ever asked her out on dates, not really, and even though she'd already had sex with Waylon she felt like a high schooler herself getting asked out by the quarterback, even if Waylon didn't look a thing like that kind of guy. But what did he mean by understanding why things had been weird last time, did he figure out that he had been acting awkward and thus made Madeline feel weird and awkward?

"So why are you asking for a date anyway?" Madeline asked, her expression softening and turning to him again.

"Because, I figured you were kind of annoyed that we'd just hooked up and not really done anything before hand. I know girls like to go on dates before they sleep with a guy so I figured that was why you were acting weird and decided to ask you on a date."

Madeline wanted to giggle at Waylon's reasoning behind asking her on a date. She was a stripper for god's sake, she'd hooked up plenty of times without needing a date beforehand. However, their little failed attempt at stealing Penguin's cash had kind of been like a date, perhaps that was why her night with Waylon was better than any other hook up she'd ever had. If that outing _was_ a date then they hadn't really hooked up at all, and that was sex with a person you wanted more from than just their body. A date was starting to sound like a really good idea now.

"So when are we going on this date?" Madeline asked, sauntering forward and lightly pushing Waylon back onto the chair. He'd let her push him of course but she still felt kind of powerful doing it. Straddling his lap she put her arms over his shoulders and pulled herself close, their faces close enough to kiss again. She felt a wave of attraction come over her and she would be quite happy having sex right then and there it was so strong, but she kinda wanted to make him wait until after the date, make him work for it.

"I was thinking now actually." He said, putting his hands on her hips.

"Ooh, so sudden." Madeline giggled. "You going to kidnap me and steal me away to your lair?"

"Scream all you want but no one will come for you." Waylon said in his deepest voice, nibbling Madeline's ear and making her squirm with delight.

"Ahhh! Oh no, someone help me." Madeline cried like an overdramatic damsel in distress. She planted a quick kiss on Waylon's lips and grinned. He swooped her up into his arms as he stood, and they quickly left the strip club for this mysterious date. Madeline was excited to see what he had in store for her.

Waylon had done his best to tidy up the warehouse, but clean environments weren't really his thing. The boxes were still stacked up in the corner like before but he had shoved them as close to the wall as possible. He'd raided an old abandoned building to try and make the warehouse more _appealing_ and found a bunch of Christmas lights to hang from the ceiling as well as a very large rug. There had been some old movies in the abandoned building too so he'd grabbed every one he could find since he hadn't seen any in a long time. He had even gone to the effort of getting alcohol earlier in the day and putting it in his fridge to go cold, as well as stealing a coffee table to sit in-between the television and the couch. On the coffee table sat a big bucket of KFC he prayed Madeline wouldn't eat much of. Stealing from fast food restaurants was actually harder than one would imagine and Waylon was always hungry.

When he let Madeline down she seemed to gasp at the sight of the ' _tidy_ ' warehouse, she almost looked amazed. She turned to Waylon with a mischievous grin on her face.

"You really have got a date planned for me don't you." She said, biting her lip. She looked so sexy when she did that.

"But of course." He said as he walked over to the speakers. He pressed the button and the music he had all set up and ready to go started playing. It was jazz music, lots of saxophone and a nice rhythm, quite upbeat too. He offered Madeline his hand and she looked at him with suspicion, which only made him feel a little embarrassed.

"What are you doing?" She asked, looking his hand like it wasn't anything she had ever seen before.

"I'm asking you to dance." Waylon said through gritted teeth. This was going to be embarrassing. Surprisingly Madeline smiled from ear to ear like a little girl who had just received a pony for her birthday. She took his hand and suddenly twirled towards him, wrapping Waylon's arm around herself until her back was pressed against his chest. She twirled outwards again and giggled when Waylon looked at her with shock.

It was kinda nice to dance with Madeline, certainly not something he was used to doing, and it was made increasingly difficult by their height difference. Waylon didn't do much of the dancing, but he still felt kinda weird and embarrassed as he twirled Madeline around him and caught her in his arms to dip her low, before lifting her up again so she could twirl outwards and then back against his chest. He must have looked ridiculous, a giant crocodile dancing, now _that_ belonged in the circus. But for a moment, if only a moment, he felt like a normal guy dancing with a beautiful woman.

They could have been a 50s diner or something like that, Madeline in one of those poodle dresses or something, sipping a milkshake with one leg cocked over the other, a bright ribbon in her hair. Or they could have been dancing in grand ballroom at some elaborate charity event hosted by the Wayne's or people like that, Madeline dressed in a beautiful long black dress with a fortunes worth of jewellery around her neck. But these were all fantasies that could never really happen, not for Waylon at least, and when the music stopped, he remembered he was a freak in a warehouse with a woman too good for him.

"Wow, you are a charmer." Madeline giggled, wrapping herself up in Waylon's arms again. He gave her a slight squeeze and enjoyed the feeling of her body in his arms. It was nice like this, just holding her close, not trying to rip her clothes off and take her in every way imaginable, although he did fancy doing that. But it was nice to be calm with someone for a chance, to just relax and be in the moment, a rare occurrence even with Madeline around.

"So what's next on the date itinerary?" Madeline asked, turned around and resting her arms on Waylon's collar bone since she couldn't reach his shoulders.

"Impatient aren't we." Waylon said with a smile, but he was getting a little concerned with how fast this was going, the second part of the date wasn't really ready yet. Then he came up with an idea to stall Madeline until the time was right.

"How good are you at swimming?" He asked, lowering his hands a little so they rested on Madeline's perfectly shaped butt.

"I'm alright. I can swim. Why? You taking me swimming?" Madeline asked with curiosity, she didn't seem to have the slightest clue for what Waylon really had planned. He scooped Madeline up in his arms and carried her outside of the warehouse to the water's edge. It was a small drop into the Gotham river, and thankfully it was a warm night tonight so Madeline wouldn't freeze to death.

"I don't have my bikini with me." Madeline grumbled. "And I can't get my underwear wet, this is expensive stuff you know."

"Then don't wear anything." Waylon said before diving into the water.

It felt really nice to swim in clean and warm water for a chance, and it was a lot clearer in the Gotham river too, despite it being night time. He did a quick parameter check to make sure there were no bodies tied to cinder blocks that could float up and ruin the evening, and once he was sure they were all good, he quickly swam back to the surface where Madeline was still stood at the edge, but at least she had taken her clothes of. He stayed mostly beneath the water with only his eyes and the top of his head visible and examined her body closely. He hadn't really had a chance to see her fully naked, not without parts of her being covered by his hands at least. She had the most amazing, perfectly shaped breasts, not too big and not to small, and her ass was just that little bit bigger than the average white girl booty. Her skin was flawless of course, and she had no tattoos which made her considerably more attractive than any other girl Waylon had seen naked. Why did beautiful girls ruin their skin by tattooing it anyway. As someone with horrible skin, he did not understand why _anyone_ would want to tarnish something so flawless.

"Come on, get in." Waylon beckoned, and Madeline scowled at him.

"I'm getting in, alright. I'm just taking my time." Madeline said as she sat on the edge and lowered herself towards the water so she could dip her toes in. Once she touched the water she quickly pulled herself back up and tucked her legs up to her chin, wrapping her arms around them.

"It's cold." She complained, burying her face in her knees.

"No its not."

"Yes it is. You don't feel it because you're cold blooded." Madeline complained, sounding like a pouting child. Waylon rolled his eyes.

"Technically speaking I'm still warm-blooded." He corrected, swimming forward so he was at the edge of the docks looking up as Madeline peered down. "Just jump in."

"What if there's _something_ in the water." Madeline whined.

"You're looking at it. Now come on, get in." Waylon ordered, pushing off the wall with his feet so he moved back to allow Madeline space to jump in.

Madeline reluctantly got to her feet, took a deep breath, pinched her nose and then jumped into the water. She made a tiny splash upon entry, but once she resurfaced she made much more of a commotion.

"It's cold." She complained, but she wasn't shivering or turning blue so Waylon ignored it. He did let her swim over to him and into his arms again for warmth though, the feeling of her body on his in the water strange but delightful. He wasn't used to holding a body in water without trying to rip it apart or drown it. He glanced down and then suddenly got the fright of his life when he saw Madeline's makeup running down her face, her eyes surrounded by black shadows as the mascara ran down her cheeks like spider legs. She looked possessed.

"What?" Madeline asked, realising Waylon's shock.

"Nothing, it's just, you're makeup is running." Waylon explained as tactfully as he could manage. Madeline took it way worse than he'd ever imagined and clutched at her face as if it was melting off.

"Oh god, I bet I look horrible." She exclaimed, submerging herself into the water as quickly as possible.

"Just mildly terrifying." Waylon said once Madeline was beneath the water and defiantly couldn't hear him.

Once Madeline re-emerged from beneath the water she had scrubbed all the makeup off and was now completely and utterly makeup free. However, she still held her hands over her face.

"What are you doing?" Waylon asked, trying to get a peak at the _real_ Madeline face, the one he had never seen before.

"Hiding my face." Madeline said, swimming towards him again and pressing herself against his chest so he couldn't see. Whenever Waylon tried to move to get a peek she moved as well, turning her face away and even hiding under the water again.

"Why are you hiding your face?" Waylon asked, halting his attempts to steal a peek since it seemed to be upsetting Madeline a little.

"Because I don't want you to see what I look like."

"Why?"

"Because I'm ugly."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"Madeline." Waylon said, hooking an arm around Madeline's waist to give her a light squeeze. "As the worlds foremost expert on ugliness, I think I can identify it when I see it, and I know you're not ugly."

"You're not ugly either." Madeline added meekly, her voice muffled behind her hands.

"I'll believe that if you show me your face." He said, putting his hands on Madeline's shoulders.

Very slowly, Madeline lowered her hands and looked as if her eyes were starting to swell with tears which was very uncharacteristic of her. She looked a _little_ different without makeup on. Her face was a little rounder, her cheekbones less pronounced, her nose a little more upturned but in a cute way. She had a scattering of freckles over her nose and across her cheeks which Waylon thought was really cute. Madeline didn't feel the same way, because one he'd seen her without makeup on, she covered up the freckles first.

"It's embarrassing." She whined, hiding her face again. "Don't look." Waylon had no clue why she was so embarrassed about freckles, they were cute, and made her look more quirky and individual.

Waylon pried Madeline's hands away from her face and moved in close so their foreheads touched and their eyes locked.

"I think it looks cute." He said, kissing her on the nose. Madeline didn't look convinced and her eyes still looked like she was about to cry, and Waylon had no clue how he would deal with such a thing. Instinctively he pulled her close and they floated in silence for a little while, a tender embrace. It was a nice silence, a calming moment where again, they could have been a normal couple skinny dipping late at night. It would have been nicer if they were somewhere in the tropics, somewhere warm with the cosy little beach shack on the water's edge and nothing but forests for miles around.

"You really think it's cute?" Madeline mumbled, peering up into Waylon's eyes. "You promise?"

"Babe, I promise." Waylon said, feeling a little giddy as he said the word ' _babe_ '. "But if you are that unhappy with them we can do a trade. How about I take your freckles and you take my skin condition huh? Would you be happier with that trade?" Madeline giggled and wrapped her legs around Waylon's body, holding herself up as she rested her arms on Waylon's shoulders. She was beginning to look a little bit more like herself now.

"I'd take that." Madeline said, stroking the side of Waylon's face. "You know why?"

"No, why?"

"Because I reckon I'd make a sexy looking lizard." Madeline answered with a grin. Waylon chuckled and kissed Madeline's neck.

"Oh yeah, you would would you?"

"Yep. I'd be like Mona Lisa or something from the Ninja Turtles." Madeline announced triumphantly. Waylon had watched the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when he was a skin so he understood the reference. He actually quite liked that show since it kind of mirrored his situation, accept instead of martial arts he just ate people.

Waylon glanced over at the clock tower that was _just_ visible from where they were. The time read 10:55, five more minutes until his surprise for Madeline was revealed.

"Come on, we gotta get to the middle of the river." Waylon said, letting go of Madeline and turning so his back was to her. Madeline hesitantly grabbed a hold of the ridges in his back and Waylon began to swim forward, slowly though so Madeline didn't fall off.

"Haha, I have a boyfriend and a speed boat built into one." Madeline giggled, flattening her body against Waylon's back as he picked up speed. Waylon couldn't help but feel a little tingle down his body when Madeline called him her ' _boyfriend_ '. He'd never been a boyfriend before, and had never thought he would ever be one. Did this mean he'd have to buy valentine's day presents and stuff?

They reached the buoy within the five minutes and Waylon helped Madeline climb onto it. She perched on the edge with her toes in the water while he circled around it, checking for bodies again. He did find one body not too far from where Madeline was, but it had already decomposed into a skeleton lying on the ocean floor so no trouble there. When he resurfaced Madeline hadn't been paying attention and his sudden appearance at her feet gave her a fright.

"I thought you were a shark or something for a second there." Madeline said as she caught her breath.

"We're in a river." Waylon said, but he did nibble on Madeline's feet making her squeal and retract them from the water.

"I know, but when you freak out you don't use logic." Madeline corrected, dipping her feet back in the water once Waylon had moved to the side of the buoy. "So where is this surprise of yours?"

"It's coming soon." Waylon said, watching the clock. The big hand was on the six and the little hand almost on the eleven, only thirty more seconds to go. Waylon climbed up onto the back of the buoy and rested his arms on the central post.

Waylon waited until it was almost eleven and then began the count down from five.

"...four, three, two, one." He said, but nothing happened. "What the? Ed what the fuck are you doing?"

"What's wrong?" Madeline asked, confused as she looked around for this _surprise_.

"I'm going to kill him I swear." Waylon grumbled, temped to dive into the water and swim to Riddler's hideout to kill the guy for not following through on his job. He didn't know where Riddler's hideout was exactly, but he'd be damned if he let a technicality like that ruin his plans.

Then, all the lights in Gotham suddenly went out and the whole city was enveloped by darkness. Waylon heard Madeline gasp with shock and then, once her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she gasped with amazement as she looked up the night filled with stars. Riddler was lucky, Waylon didn't have to kill him just yet, but perhaps reduce the pay for lateness.

"Oh my god. I didn't realise there were so many stars in the sky?" Madeline said with awe, trying to turn her head so she could see all of it. Waylon looked up too, and he did have to admit it was more beautiful then he'd imagined. He'd never seen a night sky full of stars before, but he knew girls liked stargazing so he'd decided to give it a try. It really was quite amazing, a sea of black covered in glittering lights that made a pathway through the sky. He looked over at Madeline who's eyes were sparkling like the stars themselves, her face lit up and enchanted with a sweet and serene smile. She was so beautiful, even more so now that here makeup was gone. Waylon so desperately wanted to kiss her, but he thought perhaps he should wait until the little star show was over.

"How did you manage this?" Madeline asked, glancing over at Waylon quickly before returning her attention to the stars. She looked to be counting them, but inevitably loosing count and starting over again, each time amazed the number she reached.

"A friend." Waylon said. "Well actually he's a pain in the ass and an egotistical maniac, but he's good with computers so I got him to hack into the Gotham power grid or something like that and cut it off."

"Wow, I guess it pays to have criminal friends." Madeline giggled.

"Yeah, but we only have about ten minutes until the power comes back on. Leave it off for too long and Batman will start getting curious." Waylon added, sitting down beside Madeline. He wrapped on arm around her and pulled her close to him, both of them still looking up at the stars.

"Oh god, I hope he doesn't show up. I'm naked you know." Madeline exclaimed, covering herself with her arms as if Batman was going to suddenly appear and see her.

"I noticed." Waylon said, leaning in and kissing Madeline's neck again. He kissed her all the way down her neck and shoulder and then back up again to her ear where he nibbled ever so lightly. Madeline giggled and hunched her shoulders up so he couldn't get to her neck anymore. Waylon reached around with one hand and lightly cupped Madeline's face, turning her head to face him. He planted a kiss on her lips. A light kiss but a long one, the kind of kiss you did with your first kiss, or your wedding kiss. A classy and innocent kiss, most likely to hide all the not so innocent thoughts in his head. Despite the fact he had been around a naked Madeline for a little while now, he had not grown desensitised to the power that the naked female form had on his manhood. He began contemplating if water sex would even work? If it did, he defiantly wanted to try it.

"Hey, what's that?" Madeline said, pointing over to a patch of darkness in the distance. It was quite strange, there were no stars over in that darkness, and since the lights were out Waylon couldn't tell what it was exactly. Then, a bolt of lightning shattered that darkness, a long jagged spike of white electricity striking the earth's surface. After a long moment of silence there was the low rumble of thunder and Waylon could feel his body begin she shake and sweat form on his brow. Madeline must have felt his body language change too.

"What's wrong?" She asked, lightly touching his arm. Waylon didn't answer, he just stared at the strikes of lightening that seemed to just come out of nowhere. Of all the things to ruin a date, why did it have to be thunder and lightning.

"We have to go." He said quickly, leaping into the water. "Get on." Madeline looked down at him with confusion.

"Waylon, what's going on?" She asked, glancing at the lighting and then back at him."

"Just get on." Waylon said impatiently.

"But..."

"Now!" He snapped, probably a little too angrily as Madeline quivered for a moment. He didn't mean to scare her, he really didn't, it was just that he wouldn't be able to control himself around the approaching storm and he had to get her back to the mainland so she could leave and be safe away from him. The darkness made it especially hard to get back to the warehouse and Waylon became very stressed out with the fast approaching storm.

He leaped out of the water, Madeline still on his back, and rushed inside the warehouse, slamming all the doors and windows shut and locking them as if the storm couldn't get in if he did so. Madeline hopped of his back and quickly slipped back into her clothes, making them damp with her wet body.

"What's happening?" Madeline asked, keeping her distance as Waylon rushed about trying to make the warehouse storm proof, or at least sound proof. "What's wrong?"

"You have to get out of here, I don't want you too..."

A crack of lightening, like a bolt of electricity straight through his body, followed by the growling rumble of thunder. It was so close, too close. Waylon dropped to his knees and bent over double, clutching at his head to block out the noise but it didn't work, and his mind filled with horrible flashes of distorted memories he'd rather forget.

 **Sorry that its been almost a week since I updated this but I just had a bit of writers block. So date night got ruined by a sudden and unexpected thunderstorm which basically has Waylon freaking out like nobody's business. Now before you go and complain about him having a fear of thunder and lightening, it is not a fear of thunder and lightening, it is a fear of what thunder and lightening reminds him of which we will find out in the next chapter. Also as you can probably guess Madeline isn't going to ditch him like he wants her too so we will see what happens to our devoted protagonist. Also, tips for guys reading this, romantic things like star gazing really do win the hearts of the ladies so make sure you have a friend like Riddler.**


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Madeline was never one for obeying orders, and she certainly wasn't going to start now, despite how aggressive Waylon was becoming as he tried to force her to leave. When she tried to go to him he was would lash out and almost catch her with his claws before clutching at his skull and hunching over as tight a ball as possible, groaning as if he were in terrible pain. She had never seen him like this before. It was more than just him losing control of his humanity and going savage, it was almost like he was having a panic attack. He seemed terrified of the thunder and lightning but the effect it was having on him was more than just fear. It was almost like he had PTSD and was having violent flashbacks.

She didn't know what to do, he was too dangerous for her to get a hold of, and far too big. He did also seem to be losing it a little as when he opened his eyes wide and reared his head back, as if something were torturing him, they were slits of black in toxic yellow. He had crawled to his feet now, one hand on the wall as he panted with trembling breaths, his whole body almost in spasm. His arms seemed weak and quivered as he held himself up, and then his legs began to shake and he fell to them once more. Madeline instinctively rushed over and wrapped her arms around Waylon's neck, pulling his head close to her chest.

"What are you doing!" Waylon roared, sounding like he wasn't fully aware of what was going on. He seemed distant, confused and disorientated. He tried to pull away but he was crippled by the intensity his panic attack and could only struggle.

Waylon tried to push Madeline away again but she wouldn't let him. She clung tight to him, resting her head on his and lightly cooing for him to relax. He reached out and gripped her arm just as another crack of lightening sounded, causing him to clench up for a moment, his claws digging into Madeline's arm. Madeline held her breath as she pressed her lips together to hold back a scream. It hurt so badly, she had never felt anything so painful in her life. His claws were like knives, each one hooked into her skin and sinking deeper into her arm. She wanted to make the pain stop so badly, but she wanted to help Waylon first, she had to calm him down and get him out of this panicked haze.

Madeline slid to her knees as Waylon fell forward, still cradling his head against her chest, the claw still lodged in her arm. Waylon reached around the back of Madeline and held onto her side for dear life but he didn't pierce her skin again.

"Shhh." Madeline cooed gently, her voice warbled from the amount of pain she was in. This was the most terrifying situation she had ever been in. Sure he was her ' _boyfriend_ ' but he was still Killer Croc, and she was dangerously close to his jaws. If he suddenly snapped, and then literally snapped, she would most likely die. She took a deep breath and swallowed her pain to calm her voice down. Waylon was growling with each panicked breath, gritting his teeth so hard Madeline was scared they break.

"Hush little baby don't say a word, mamas going to buy you a mocking bird." Madeline sang with a still quivering voice. She swallowed again and tried her best to steady her nerves but she was so scared and in so much pain. She _had_ to do it though, she had to calm him down so he didn't hurt himself or her.

"And if that mocking bird don't sing, mamas going to buy you a diamond ring." She continued, this time her voice more steady and a little louder. Another crack of lightning and rumble of thunder sounded and she felt Waylon tense up again.

"And if that diamond ring turns brass, mamas going to buy you a looking glass." Madeline added quickly and loudly to try and calm him before he did more damage to her arm. "And if that looking glass gets broke, mamas going to buy you a billy goat." As the thunder sounded Waylon didn't clench up as much and his grip on Madeline's arm loosened a little but not completely. He buried his head in Madeline's lap, his free hand clutching at the fabric of her shirt as if it were his only lifeline.

"And if that billy goat won't pull, mamas going to buy you a cart and bull. And if that cart and bull turn over, mamas going to buy you a dog named Rover." Madeline sang, feeling the weight of relief lift off her as Waylon stopped shaking. "And if that dog named Rover won't bark, mamas going to buy you a horse and cart." Waylon had stopped shaking all together, but he still seemed terrified as he clung onto Madeline. Madeline took a deep breath and looked out of the window to see the storm rolling in at a faster pace. It wasn't over yet and it wouldn't be for a while. She cleared her throat again, her arm starting to feel numb.

"And if that horse and cart fall down." She sang, stroking Waylon's head as she did so. "You'll still be the sweets babe in town."

More lightening struck and more thunder roared so Madeline continued to sing until it would subside. She had no idea what could possibly make someone like Waylon freak out so much or tremble like a terrified child. Whatever it was, it was something truly horrible and whoever was responsible for it just became Madeline's new number one most hated person.

Voltage. Too much voltage. Thousands of watts of voltage shooting through his brain and making him scream. His eyes only seeing white as all logic and thought escaped his mind and left only a roaring animal to claw and scratch at the bars of its cage.

Convulsion. His whole body convulsed as the electricity shot through his nerves and sent all his muscles in spasm. The sound of the metal restrains clanging together, the warbled cry for it to end escaping his lips only to disappear amongst his roars.

Fear. He was so scared. He could feel his mind going, fading into the jaws of the monster his tortures saw him to be. Would he even wake up all after this was over, would he be himself again or something else? Would he even wake up at all, or would that part of him be lost forever.

Hatred. He hated those doctors for what they were doing. They thought they were helping him. Curing him of his insanity. They weren't. They were making everything worse. He wasn't insane, _they_ were insane. Why couldn't they just leave him alone. No, they had to poke and prod and test and experiment on the creature they were employed to _cure_.

Despair. This was it. This had to be it. The last time this happened. The last time he would be aware of it happening. After this he would be no more. Either dead or a retarded mess on a table incapable of movement, or worse, he would become the savage beast they thought he was, that they _wanted_ him to be. Either way, _he_ would be gone and _it_ would remain.

Madeline. Where was Madeline? Was she here? Was she here to see his end? Was she beside him holding his hand as he died? Was she behind a glass window helplessly watching? Was she trying to fight off the guards holding her back, desperately trying to reach him? Or was she somewhere else _with_ someone else? Happier, living her life like a normal person instead of tied to him and tied to a fate of misery. Or was she gone all together? Dead. Dead at his hands.

Blood. He could feel blood. He could taste blood. He could smell blood, all over the walls, floor and ceiling of a padded cell. His arms locked in place and unable to more than writhe in agony. Blood. He could taste blood in his mouth and on his tongue, down his throat and burning in his stomach. It tasted rotted, disgusting, metal and poisonous. As tried to spit it out he found himself eating, his arms free from restraint and in them guts and organs, skin and bone, flesh and blood. It tasted good. So good. He found himself gorging on the body, ripping it apart and swallowing it whole. He couldn't get enough, it was so good. He felt something touch his arm and looked down to see a delicate hand touching his scaly skin. He followed with his eyes up the arm, past the shoulders and to the face of his victim. He almost choked on the flesh. Madeline. Madeline's face stared back at him. Her green eyes wide with horror, her skin a deathly pale, her mouth open in a silent scream. She wasn't dead, she was alive but dying. Dying at his hands.

He wanted to vomit, but found himself being thrown backwards. His back hit the hard metal of the table and he began to convulse as the electricity shot through his brain once more, trapping him inside his own terrible jaws.

"Madeline." He tried to cry, but no words would emerge, only the sound of an animal's roar. "Madeline." His words were nothing, his mind scrambled. He could taste blood again. He could smell blood again. Madeline's blood all over him, drowning him.

Voltage. Convulsion. Hatred. Despair. Madeline. Blood. Voltage. Convulsion. Hatred. Despair. Madeline. Blood. Voltage, convulsion, hatred, despair, Madeline, blood, voltage, convulsion, hatred, despair, Madeline, blood, voltage, convulsion, hatred, despair, Madeline, blood voltage convulsion hatred despair Madeline blood voltage convulsion hatred despair Madeline blood voltageconvulsion hatreddespair Madelineblood voltageconvulsionhatreddespairMadelinebloodvoltageconvulsionhatreddespairMadelinebloodvoltageconvulsionhatreddespairMadelineblood!

"MADELINE!"

"It's okay, I'm here." Madeline said, appearing in front of Waylon, her face stricken with worry and her arm wrapped in banges. Oh god. What had he done? He reached out and gentle took hold of her arm, staring at it as if it were the most horrible sight he'd ever witnessed. Was this his work? Had he done this to her? He couldn't remember. All he remembered was the storm coming in and then being sent into the hellhole of a memory. Arkham Asylum was hell, and Batman was the Grim Reaper.

"Did I..." Waylon said, hardly able to speak. "Did I do this?" Madeline took his hand off her arm and held it in hers.

"Its fine. Are you okay? You started freaking out when the storm came and you've been writhing in your sleep for the last couple hours." Madeline explained, a sincere look of concern in her eyes. She was so beautiful, and she worried about him like no one ever had. And what had he done in return? Nearly torn her arm of most likely.

"Couple hours? How long have I been asleep?" Waylon asked, getting up from the floor and looking around. He felt a wave of dizziness come over him and he fell onto the couch, clutching his head as his mind practically began to spin. Madeline rushed over and crouched in front of him as he leaned forward with his head between his knees. He wanted to puke. He knew the flesh he had eaten was all in the dream but he still felt sick, he still felt like he had Madeline's blood and flesh inside his stomach being slowly dissolved by stomach acid.

"What happened in your dream?" Madeline asked, her hands either side of Waylon's head to hold it up so she could look into his eyes. He gazed back into hers. Beautiful, concerned green eyes that had looked so horrifying in his dream. She'd looked so scared, so terrified as he'd consumed her still living body. Was that going to happen? Was he going to lose it? Was he going to eat her one day? This evening had not gone to plan. It was supposed to be romantic. He'd gotten Riddler to cut off the cities power and everything so they could see the stars, and afterwards he had planned for them to watch a film together and snuggle on the couch like they did in the movies. Heck, he'd planned to eat her in a totally different way to what had happened in his dream. But it had all been ruined. He'd fucked it up and to make matters worse he'd hurt Madeline. His Madeline. He'd hurt _his_ Madeline.

"Waylon, come on. Speak to me." Madeline coaxed, but Waylon couldn't see her. His eyes were glazed over and stared into nothingness. This was it. He was screwed. He was going to lose it soon and then that would be it, he'd be gone and the only thing left of him would be Killer Croc. All that would be left of him would be a violent, monstrous animal with a never ending hunger.

There was a sharp pain across Waylon's cheek and he found himself facing away from Madeline, his cheek hurting and the sound of a slap fading in the echo of the warehouse. Had Madeline just slapped him?

"You need to talk to me." Madeline cried, and Waylon turned to look at her and felt his heart stop for a moment when he saw that she was crying. Her beautiful green eyes were marred by red and she had tears streaming down her face. She didn't look sad, she looked angry. So angry. At him, he realised.

"I'm sorry." He said, cupping _her_ face in _his_ hands. "I should have checked the weather or something. I should have warned you before..."

"It's okay." Madeline said, putting her hands over his and slipping her fingers in-between his. She held his hands tightly for a moment as she bit her bottom lip. She looked as if she was trying to hold back more tears, her eyes shut tight.

"I need you to talk to me." She begged, opening her eyes. "You need to tell me what's going on with you. I need to know what made you freak out so much. Please Waylon." She looked into his eyes and in that moment, Waylon felt like he was the weak human and Madeline was the powerful one.

"Tell me."

Waylon sighed and wrapped his arms around Madeline's waist, pressing his head against her chest. After a moment he lifted her up so she was on his lap and then lay down with her still wrapped up in his arms. He hand on hand on the back of head, tangled in her silky hair, and the other at the small of her back. She had her hands tucked up together and was resting them on his chest. He didn't want to talk about Arkham, but he knew Madeline wouldn't let it go. She did have a right to know about it, especially if he'd hurt her. Who knows, maybe finally talking to someone about it would help, and it was Madeline. If she could calm him when he was turning into a monster, perhaps she could calm the nightmares.

"Arkham Asylum..." Waylon began, finding the words rather difficult to use. "...is hell on Earth. The doctors don't really help anyone get better. They're researchers, not therapists, and for people like me, King Shark, Bane, Clay Face and anyone who isn't entirely normal, we're an opportunity to _experiment_."

"Isn't that illegal? How are they getting away with it?" Madeline asked, tracing a heart shape with her finger over Waylon's chest. "I know Batman is an ass but he's supposed to be the good guy right? Doesn't he check on that sort of stuff?" Waylon shook his head.

"Na, that bastard just throws us in and then leaves to get the next one. He doesn't keep an eye on things. Besides, the doctors are sneaky, they order certain types of therapies and tests for the purpose of _curing_ my supposed insanity. What they really do is test my condition." Waylon grumbled. He lifted his arm up and looked at it, the scales and claws hadn't always been so prominent, not until he'd been into Arkham a couple of times at least. Since his first visit to that hell hole his condition had been getting progressively worse. They'd taken samples, done little tests on his resistance to temperature, chemicals and different types of damage. They'd even threatened to cut off his limbs to see if they'd grow back like his scales did. _They_ were the real monsters. And they didn't even have the decency of acknowledging him by his name. He was just the subject, the creature to be tested on. He was just the violent and monstrous Killer Croc, a thorn in Gotham's side and since he was such a notorious criminal, all morals seemed to go out of the window, justified by the fact that he was a bad guy.

"What kind of therapies?" Madeline asked, looking up at Waylon. Waylon tightened his grip on Madeline and rested his head against her neck. Her hair smelt so lovely, so fresh and clean despite their swimming adventures.

"Electroshock therapy." He said, the words like acid on his tongue. Electroshock therapy, the worst kind of therapy he'd ever had. It was awful. Getting shocked with a higher and higher voltage each time, his mind going crazy as everything was scrambled about. It was no wonder he was getting dumber, they were fucking screwing with his brain. The worst part was he was growing resistant to it, which would be a good thing, if only they didn't have the option of just upping the voltage until he made him spasm on the table. He didn't even have the luxury of passing out afterwards, his body just wouldn't let him. He was fully awake and fully aware the whole time, and had to deal with the after effects in his cell. And they wondered why he was so violent.

"I didn't know that was still legal." Madeline said, lightly stroking the side of Waylon's face. He nuzzled into her hand, the softness of it practically healing his mind it felt so nice. He just wanted to curl up in her arms, which would work a lot better if he was smaller.

"Yep." Waylon said meekly. "Apparently zapping people help cure them."

"That's stupid. How are they getting away with it?"

"I dunno. I guess they just mark down that I was calmer afterwards so therefore it works."

"And are you calmer?" Madeline asked. Waylon grinned and chuckled a little, his growl showing though.

"Nope." He smirked. "I'm angrier. Gotta thank them for that though, if they didn't piss me off so much I wouldn't have enough adrenaline to escape." Madeline giggled but her eyes were still sad upon hearing all of this. Waylon didn't want her to be sad, he only wanted good and happy things for Madeline.

"So I guess that explains why the thunder and lightning freaked you out." Madeline concluded, wriggling closer to Waylon. He held her tight once more and never wanted to let go.

"Yeah." He said dismally. "It reminds me of it, brings back to many memories and I can't stop it. Believe me, I've tried." He used to get reoccurring nightmares every other night about the electroshock therapy and Arkham in general. He'd just started getting over them too, but the storm last night had just thrown almost a year's worth of progress into the gutter.

"Well then." Madeline said, wrapping her arms around Waylon's neck to pull herself close. "I'll keep an eye on the weather forecast and next time there is a thunderstorm I'll make sure I'm here to help you get through it." Waylon found himself feeling a little flushed red upon hearing that. He knew she was an amazing woman who would seemingly do anything for him, and he would quite happily do anything and _everything_ for her, but he hadn't expected that level of commitment. She really was his girlfriend, and perhaps even his soul mate. He pulled her as close as physically possible and held her as tight as he could without crushing her.

"I'm sorry I ruined our date." He mumbled from inside Madeline's hair. That was a mistake, he ended up with hair in his mouth and all over his face and it wouldn't come off. Madeline giggled and moved her hair to the other shoulder so he didn't end up tangled in it.

"It's okay. I had a wonderful time." Madeline said, giving a small moan of contentment as they cuddled. Waylon opened his eyes to look at Madeline but found himself looking at the coffee table and the bucket of KFC. The _empty_ bucket of KFC.

"Did you eat all the fried chicken?" Waylon asked, trying to sit up but Madeline latched onto him in a way that made it difficult to get up so he stayed lying down, glaring at the empty bucket.

"Shhh, it's okay, you're just crazy." Madeline said, holding onto him as tightly as possible so he couldn't go over and see if the bucket was _completely_ empty.

Waylon gave a low but playful growl and moved just enough to see Madeline's face. He glared at her lips and she looked a bit like a naughty child that had just eaten the last bit of chocolate in the house. He glared at her lips.

"I bet you taste like KFC." He said, and he clasped their lips together. He quickly made an effort to get his tongue inside Madeline's mouth which ruined the kiss but he could defiantly taste fried chicken.

"Oh my god." Madeline gasped, getting free from his overzealous kiss. "You're actually trying to taste the chicken? Don't eat me!"

"I might just have to." Waylon said with a sly grin and quickly flipped Madeline onto her back. The night wasn't over yet and he had some intentions for Madeline's body that involved every inch of her getting ' _tasted_ '.

 **Okay so the nightmares because of the electroshock therapy is cannon, the bit about the storm bringing it on is not but anyway there you have it. Hope you liked that dream sequence, I'm kind of proud of it and I've been showing all my friends like a little kid with a drawing that might not be as good as I think it is. I shall be updating soon, hopefully within the next couple days and we will have a few more action sequences similar to that of the Blue Umbrella. Thank you for your support and please leave a review :)**


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

It had been a hectic couple of weeks for Gotham City with the opening and sudden closure of Arkham City, the world's first city wide mega prison. They had cut off the bad side of Gotham, not that there were many good sides to the city, and turned it into a rats nest of prisoners from Blackgate and Arkham Asylum. The whole project had been run by Arkham Asylum director Hugo Strange who had turned out to be doing the bidding of some super criminal Madeline had never heard of. Batman had put an end to it of course as well as apprehend as many criminals within Arkham City as possible. However, a few criminals had escaped his grasp such as Riddler, who had supposedly escaped when in police custody. Madeline had been very happy that Arkham City never got a hold of Waylon, and even if they had, Waylon new the sewer network well enough to get in and out at his leisure.

Due to the level of stress the city was under and the increased security throughout Gotham, meeting up had becoming rather difficult. On top of that, Madeline had been forced to take up more shifts at the strip club due to most of the high paying clientele being behind the Arkham City walls. The whole thing had come to a head one night when she was at home watching television. The doors of Arkham City had opened and emerging from the mega prison, dead in the arms of the Batman, was none other than Joker. That image had burned into Madeline's mind, the dead corpse of the most notorious criminal in Gotham, killed by the Batman. Everyone had wanted Joker dead for a while but Batman had never done it, he was ' _too moral_ ' or so the news reporters said. But now he had blood on his hands. Did that mean everything would change. Was Batman going to start killing people now, ending the lives of the criminals in Gotham rather than taking them to prison time and time again only to have them escape and wreak havoc once more?

As Madeline dressed in her apartment she couldn't help but worry that if Batman _was_ going to start killing criminals, how long would it be until he decided to end Waylon's life. Waylon was strong sure, but if Batman was capable of taking him down without the use of deadly force, then what would happen if he didn't have to hold back. He'd be unstoppable, just like Joker was.

"It'll be fine." She told herself as she wriggled into her skinny jeans. "The police would have to arrest Batman if he started killing criminals."

"What are you talking about?" Paula asked, perched on the edge of the bed. She had come round early in the morning, still dressed in her party clothes as she hadn't been to bed yet. Madeline was up because she had some errands to run. Her account had been looking dangerously low due to the lack of customers so she'd been forced to take some money from her savings to deposit into the bank. Thankfully she had taken the cash out of her mattress before Paula arrived so her ' _friend_ ' didn't find the secret stash.

"Huh? Oh, just Batman. You been watching the news?" Madeline asked as she pulled her boots up and over the leg of the jeans and zipped them shut.

"About the Joker thing? Yeah, can't believe he killed him. I thought he was incapable of killing anyone, hence why the city has such a big crime problem." Paula said, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. Then she stopped and looked at Madeline with an inquisitive face.

"Do you think Batman is hot?" She asked and Madeline almost fell over she was so taken aback.

"What?" She exclaimed, horrified at the thought of seeing Batman as something attractive. He had done too much to Waylon for her to ever see him as anything other than a demon. Plus, he wore a _bat_ costume, automatic turn off for Madeline's chiroptophobia.

"I think he's hot." Paula added dreamily, resting her head in her hand and gazing out the window. "A muscular and well chiselled white knight. Saving the city from evil while battling his own emotional trauma." Madeline rolled her eyes at the fantasy.

"He's the Dark Knight." She corrected, grabbing her handbag. "And I thought you said that there was no longevity with dark and mysterious, dangerous guys like that."

"I don't want a relationship with him. Just a couple bangs in the Batmobile." Paula giggled, getting a little too excited. "I wonder what toys he has in his ' _utility belt_ '."

"Urgh. Can you please stop?" Madeline begged, feeling a little nauseous as her mind automatically filled in the imagery Paula was describing, which felt like a form of infidelity to Madeline. "I don't want to think about these things."

"I bet he's even hotter than Bruce Wayne."

"Paula! Stop!"

"Right right. You got Jones or whatever his name is. Who, by the way, I still haven't seen a picture of yet."

Madeline ignored her friend and opened the door to leave the apartment. She waited, holding the door open, for her friend to leave first.

"Come on." She said after Paula hadn't made any attempt to move from the bed.

"Not until I see a picture." She demanded, folding her arms.

"I don't have any pictures of him." Madeline said, and after hearing herself say it she realised that she probably should get one. Maybe just a small one to keep in her bag or something. No, if someone searched her bag they would find it. Maybe she could keep it in her mattress with all the money.

"Well that's lame." Paula grumbled, getting up and going to the door. Madeline had to give her a little bump to make her get through the doorway and closed it behind them.

"You're so boring." Paula wined, leaning on the door as Madeline locked it. "You never want to go out anymore."

"I've got a lot on my plate okay." Madeline sighed. It wasn't that she was boring, it was just that going out every night and hooking up with random guys had become quite boring. All she wanted to do was hang out with Waylon or go do crazy stuff with him like robbing Penguin again.

She felt her phone vibrate through the handbag and plunged her hand into the sea of junk to answer it. Paula waved goodbye and sauntered off as Madeline answered it.

"Hello."

"Hey Maddy." Jack replied in a hushed voice.

"Hey Jack what's up?" Madeline asked, a little confused as to why her brother was calling her. No one ever called her, especially not her family. She had kind of distanced herself from them since she moved to Gotham and only received the odd text at Christmas and stuff. It wasn't that she had cut herself off from them, it was just that she wanted to live by her own rules for a while and her family had a habit of getting into shit and trying to drag _her_ into it. Her mum had been on and off with drugs for a while, more than just weed of course, and her brother wasn't doing so well in school due to his ADHD. It was so weird for her to hear her brother whispering though, he was never calm enough to be capable of whispering.

"I need your help?" He asked, sounding like he was hiding from someone.

"What's going on? What's happening?" Madeline asked in a hushed tone as well, as if she were in the same situation.

"Its Johnny and his crew. Mum owes them drug money but we don't have any. We don't even have enough for rent and they sent us an eviction notice."

Madeline bit her lip and found herself growling a little out of frustration. Johnny was the local leader of the biker gang in her home town and while they did a good job of supplying the town with various illicit substances, they also had a nasty habit of ' _giving_ ' people drugs, only to demand payment a few days later. Madeline's mum was quite the addict so she wouldn't have thought when they'd offered her some samples.

"Shit. You need cash? I'm on my way to the bank I'll transfer the money. How much is it?" Madeline asked, holding her phone with her shoulder as she searched for a pen and pad in her bag.

"$25,000." Jack said and Madeline almost snapped the pen in half.

"What?" She exclaimed, a little too loudly. She could hear someone open the closet door Jack had been hiding in and snatch the phone away from her brother.

"This the pigs, cos these guys are tweakers and owe us."

"Relax Caleb." Madeline growled, recognising the voice of an ex boyfriend turned biker. "I'll get you the money, just don't hurt anyone."

"Ah, well if it isn't Madeline." Caleb sneered, saying her name wrong on purpose. "The big city girl who is too pussy for her home town."

"Pussy?" Madeline laughed. "Ha, you're the pussy. If you came to Gotham you'd be chewed up and spit out within a week. This is the home of super criminals like Joker who would laugh at your little tough guy attempts, and trust my personal experience with that clown, he likes to laugh."

Madeline could practically see Caleb's face turn sour as she wounded his pride. The guy thought he was tougher than he actually was, but she knew he wouldn't do anything to her family, not really, since they were one of the best customers in town.

"Fuck you bitch. I'd be a king." Caleb snapped, only making Madeline laugh even more heartily.

"Please." She cried with laughed. "You're seriously overestimating your abilities. What do you do? Still clean the latrines at the biker club house?"

"Shut the fuck up I'm important now." Caleb snapped, but his voice sounded like he somewhat lying.

"Oh really? You get the important job of harassing women and children, that's a totally awesome job. Did they give you your very own baseball bat for the promotion."

"Listen to me you whore." Caleb snapped, talking too close to the phone. "You better have the cash by the time I get down there. $50,000 in three days or else we'll find out how hyperactive your little brother can be when he's in a wheelchair."

"I thought it was twenty five?"

"I've doubled it since you're being such a smart ass." Caleb sneered, sounding proud of himself. "I'll be in Gotham in three days and you better have the money."

"You don't threaten me anymore." Madeline hissed. "There's a giant cannibalistic crocodile in this city, you really think you're scarier than him? Perhaps I can introduce you two."

"Yeah right. $50,000. Three days, or else."

Caleb hung up and Madeline's tone switched from cocky and confidant to panicked. She didn't have $50,000, she had maybe $15,000 in her mattress and only two grand in the envelop she was going to deposit. What was she going to do?

Madeline hurried down the stairs of the apartment building and called a taxi. She couldn't stop fidgeting in the seat as she tried to think of a way to get the money. She couldn't exactly wait for them to show up and then get Waylon to kill them all, then they really would hurt her family. She had to pay them, but how? The bank wouldn't give her a loan of $50,000, she was a stripper not a businesswoman. They'd probably think she needed it for drugs or something. Well, they'd think it was for _her_ drugs at least. Could she rob a bank with Waylon's help? He had said he was bad at robbing banks though, and she wasn't a very good thief either. What could she do though? If only she'd kept her mouth shut and not acted like a bitch, then perhaps she'd be paying the original twenty five.

The taxi pulled up outside the bank and she darted out, almost forgetting to the pay the driver. She hurried inside, not running but walking with purpose, her heels clinking on the marble floor. It was a busy day in Gotham, pay day for a lot of people. Everyone was here to cash in their checks and live for another week, the lines long and the tellers irritable. She picked a line and joined at the back, tapping her foot as she waited, still trying to think of a way to get this money.

She looked around the bank as she thought, examining the old building. Gotham Bank was one of the original buildings of Gotham with tall pillars outside like a courthouse and massive clock on the front with two guys wielding hammers to hit the bell above on the hour. Inside had two floors, the second more of a balcony around with doors to offices. The interior design was mainly marble and stone with tall pillars and old wooden doors. There were gargoyles in the corners and around the central column that protruded through the middle of the bank, larger than the others and more decorative. The bank had fitted little tables to it so people could fill out their paperwork. The safe itself was behind a reinforced wooden door and from that door onwards everything was more modern and secure. It had to be in Gotham, otherwise criminals would rob the bank every Friday night.

The line moved a little and Madeline took one small step forward. There were not as many tellers as needed for the number of customers and everyone looked uncomfortably anxious to get moving. Madeline glanced at the big clock on the wall. It was almost midday, only a few seconds to go. She watched the seconds hand tick around, the big hand hovering over the twelve, just itching to go all the way. She found herself counting along as the seconds ticked by, trying to take her mind of the little crisis she was going through.

"Five, four..." Madeline counted to herself. She glanced over to watch as a little boy ran inside the bank, his businesswoman mother on the phone outside and unaware of her escaping child.

"...three, two..."

"Put the money in the bag!" Someone at the front of the line yelled, producing a gun and aiming it at the frightened teller who screamed as the robbers accomplices fired three shots into the air. Some people dropped to the ground, covering their heads. Others ran towards the exits or to the nearest cover. Madeline dropped down to a crouch and looked to the door where the mother had just been startled by the gun shots into realising her child was inside the bank.

"...One." Madeline finished, lying on her stomach as one of the robbers stalked past her and aimed a gun at her head. As if hearing her countdown, the emergency shielding around the windows and doors of the bank slammed shut automatically, startling everyone as they hit the ground with a bang. The robbers became infuriated and opened fire at the teller who was thankfully behind bullet proof glass.

"You press the emergency button?" The robber yelled, shoving his gun under the cash slot. The tell screamed and put her hands up.

"No no no!" She cried. "I didn't touch anything! Please!"

"Attention ladies and gentlemen." A voice announced over the PA system. It was a cocky voice belonging to an arrogant person who sounded too full of himself for his own good. Madeline looked up at the PA system as if it were the stranger's face, and the robbers lowered their guns and stared with disbelief as well. Everyone went quiet and looked in horror at this sudden change in events.

"You lucky people have been randomly selected to take part in the greatest contest of your lives." The voice announced like a game show host. "And what is the prize for this amazing competition of wit and intellectual prowess you ask? Why your lives of course."

 **A short chapter here because I have homework to do but as we can safely assume by the way this 'mysterious voice' talks, that Waylon might just be regretting the last job he did. What will happen next? Will Madeline get the money to help her mum and brother out? Sorry about that btw, I needed more chapters so this will give us a couple scenes with Madeline's ex. Also I uploaded an image for this fanfiction but I don't know if its showing up so please go to art/Killer-Croc-and-Madeline-640992500 and have a look. It took me two days to do. Please leave a review and hopefully the next chapter will be up soon.**


	16. Chapter 15

**Try your hand at the riddles before you see what the answer is. Could you survive in one of Riddler's games?**

 **Chapter 15**

Waylon had planned on robbing a jewellery store to steal a nice necklace for Madeline for a date idea he had brewing. However, despite choosing to go in the day time to avoid the nocturnal Batman, he found himself face to face with the caped crusader deep in the sewer system as the dark knight calmly emerged from the shadows. This was rare, Batman never tried to face off against Waylon in the sewers since it was his home turf. With with the crime fighter standing directly in front of him, completely vulnerable to an attack, Waylon found himself in the defensive rather than charging in to attack. What did Batman have up his sleeve. Some new gadget perhaps? Or could it be a weapon. Batman had killed Joker only a few weeks ago, what if he had abandoned his ' _no killing_ ' policy and was out to put a permanent end to all the criminals in Gotham.

"What the fuck do you want?" Waylon growled, snapping his jaws to try and ward off Batman, who didn't even flinch. "I haven't done anything." Yet.

"I don't need a current reason to arrest you, you have multiple charges already and on top of that you're an escaped convict." Batman explained, still not making any attempt to defend himself if Waylon attacked. The thought of being taken back to Arkham was too much for Waylon to bear so he charged towards Batman, lashing out with his claws to try and catch him and crush him. Batman ducked as Waylon lashed out and then leaped up, flipping over Waylon's head and pushing off of Waylon's shoulders with his hands before landing on the other side. He tossed something towards Waylon as he turned around and Waylon received a small shock from the device. It wasn't much but it was enough to make him fall to his knees for a moment and catch his breath.

"I'm not here to fight you Croc." Batman said calmly, returning to a calm position as if he hadn't just electrocuted Waylon.

"Then what the hell do you want?" Waylon snapped, choosing not to attack Batman again because he was curious to find out what it was he wanted from him. He got to his feet but made no attempt to look threatening, a weird way to be around Batman of all people.

"It's Riddler, he's locked down the Gotham Bank and trapped at least thirty hostages inside." Batman explained, bringing up a screen that projected from his gauntlet onto the sewer wall. "He wants me to play his game or he'll blow the place up and kill the hostages." Waylon examined the projected live stream of the inside of the bank, quite amazed by the technology. The people inside were walking around looking for a way out, some panicking and others trying to be rational about the situation.

"And?" Waylon asked, folding his arms. What did Batman expect _him_ to do? He'd set up the damn explosives for Riddler in the first place and he didn't care if those people got killed.

"I need you to use the tunnels under the bank and disarm the explosives at the base of the banks foundations while I deal with Riddler. Then you need to go to the bank and get everyone out just in case there are other explosives."

Waylon laughed. Was Batman serious? He was a criminal, why the hell would he save hostages and work with the man who kept putting him back in Arkham of all people. Sensing Waylon's amusement and Batman typed something into his gauntlet's virtual keyboard.

"Why would I help you?" Waylon laughed. "Killing Joker must have really fucked with your mind huh?"

"You'll help me because you have no choice." Batman said rather threateningly and Waylon stopped laughing. What did Batman have up his sleeve?

"You got some collar or something to control me like a dog?" Waylon growled, cracking his neck from side to side ready for a brawl. "Good luck getting it on."

"I have something much easier in mind." Batman said casually, typing something else into his gauntlet.

Waylon braced himself for some new technological attack but it never came. Batman gestured to the projection that had zoomed in on one person in the bank, a woman. Waylon warily glanced at the image, prepared for a sudden attack from Batman.

"You'll help me because Madeline is one of the hostages." Batman said, and Waylon felt a sharp pang of dread in his chest. He stared at the image on the wall, even putting his hands against it as if he could just pluck her out of the danger. Then he found himself becoming rather enraged and felt his pupils go to slits.

"You weren't going to fucking start with that?" He yelled, wanted to lunge at Batman but retraining himself out of fear that Madeline would come to harm. He was going to kill Riddler for this. Sure _he'd_ helped set up the bombs but if he'd known Madeline was going to get caught up in it he would snapped that narcissistic twig in half.

"I was giving you an opportunity to do the right thing." Batman said, closing the projection.

"Oh yeah like that's going to work." Waylon hissed. "What would that do huh? Take a year or two of my sentence. Do enough good deeds and I'll be out by the time I'm what, 150?"

"Doesn't matter." Batman said, producing his grappling device. "Just get the job done."

"Oh yeah, and what happens after that huh? You arrest me nicely? Give me a padded cell in Arkham instead of a bare one?" Waylon snarled sceptically.

"We'll get to that when we come to it." Batman said, and disappeared into the darkness. Waylon didn't trust him one bit, but he had to comply, even if it would kill his reputation. He had to save Madeline. Perhaps he could sneaky about it and get her out and her alone, that way at least a few people died and he wouldn't be unemployed for the rest of his life.

"Here are the rules." The voice announced, still sounding like he was hosting a game show. Was this funny to him? Everyone was freaking out and the bank robbers were still waving guns around and adding more panic to the situation. Some people were trying to find a way out but they were completely sealed in, all doors and windows blocked, and even the backrooms of the bank were locked down tight. The tellers and bankers were huddled together behind the bulletproof glass and some patrons were still hiding from the gunmen. Madeline was stood near the PA speakers to listen in.

"I will give you a riddle, and you must answer it within sixty seconds. Submit your answer into the little ballot box on the central column. If you get it right, you advance to the next round. If you get it wrong, then I blow all of you sky-high."

Everyone went nervously quiet upon hearing this, followed by screaming and shouts of panic as the desperately banged on the doors and windows to escape. Madeline shook her head at the stupidity, there was no point to panicking, only playing the game and getting the answers right. She found herself stood with four other people near the PA speakers and the ballot box. One person was the lead gunman, another a very pointy prudish looking woman in a suit, one angry looking man dressed like a friendly neighbour, and one older man with glasses who seemed to be the calmest one there. It looked like they were going to be the contestants.

"Your first riddle is this. ' _You can catch me, and you can hold me but not for very long. You can run out of me, you can lose me, and I can be taken away._ _What am I?_ ' Your sixty seconds starts now."

The clock on the wall started ticking loudly, no one had noticed it had stopped. The hand seemed to race around the clock face and everyone looked at each other for the answer. The prude woman looked exasperated that no one had the answer and looked around as if they were all on her team of staff at whatever business she worked for. The angry just looked angry as he thought, and the old man looked pensive. The gunman looked useless in this situation. Madeline gave herself a moment to think and ran through a list of things. Riddle's always had simple answers that made you feel stupid for not getting them sooner. They were always answers with an abstract meaning rather than literal. So it wasn't something tangible that you caught, lost or held, it was something abstract.

"Breath." Madeline announced as the clock ticked to forty seconds. She rushed to the ballot box and scribbled her answer down on the paper provided.

"Wait, are we going to trust _her_?" The prude woman snarled, implicating that Madeline was somehow less than her and incapable of being intelligent.

"You catch your breath, you can hold your breath but not for long because you'll suffocate." Madeline growled as she scribbled the answer down and shoved it in the box. "You can run out of breath, you can lose your breath and someone can take your breath away. Sorry that I didn't give you more time to be useless."

There a moment of silence as everyone held their breaths for the answer. They waited an impossibly long time but then the PA speakers sounded out a _ding ding ding_ of success. Madeline sighed with relief and glared smugly at the prude woman who seemed rather offended that Madeline had gotten the answer before she did.

"Congratulations, you move on to the next round. ' _You can always find me in the past, you can create me in the present, but I can never taint the future. What am I?_ ' Your time starts now."

Before Madeline had a moment to think the prude woman started jumping up and down squealing.

"History, history, its history!" She repeated like angry school teacher. "It's so easy." She sauntered over to the ballot box and filled in the paper as the angry man walked over to Madeline.

"Who the fuck is this guy?" He grumbled, folding his arms and scowling at the PA.

"It's Riddler." The bank robber interrupted, walking between them and looking at Madeline as he spoke. "He's one of the super criminals who sets up elaborate riddles all over the city. He's kind of annoying after a while." Madeline was a little shocked at how patronising the robber's voice was as he spoke to her, as if she didn't know anything about anything and he was the expert.

"I know who Riddler is." Madeline corrected, sensing that the bank robber had probably worked for one of the other criminals like Penguin or Twoface and once met Riddler. Therefore, in his head, that made him an expert when really he was just a common thug who just happened to be in the room.

The robber was getting a little too close to Madeline for comfort and he seemed to be undressing her with his eyes. She folded her arms to cover her breasts and shifted her weight onto the other hip so she was just that little bit further away from him.

"Actually my _boyfriend_ knows Ed quite well." Madeline explained, hoping mention of a criminal boyfriend would make the robber stop leering at her. "He might just have to pay him a visit and kick his ass for putting me through this." The robber looked a little shocked and slightly confused so Madeline decided to be the patronising one.

"Oh you look stumped. Ed is Riddler name, Edward I believe." She added with a smug smile that felt good to wear.

"Of course _you_ are familiar with the names of criminals." The prude woman said as she sauntered back to her spot, a few seconds left on the clock before they would get a _ding ding ding_ of success.

"Oh yeah, and what is that supposed to mean?" Madeline growled, ready to take her earrings out and throw down with this bitch.

"Well I just mean it would be unprofessional of you to not catch their names afterwards, or are you that much of whore that you just take the money and go." The prude woman sneered, sticking her pointy nose in the air. Madeline wanted to crush the woman beneath her high heel boots but decided for a more bitchy approach.

"I am a stripper." She corrected, clarifying the difference between the professions as there was a _big_ difference. "Not a prostitute. And I may take my clothes of for money, but at least I don't suck CEO cock for a promotion." The prude woman's jaw dropped and it wasn't just shock at the _suggestion_ that she had done such a thing. Before anyone could react the prude woman lunged at Madeline like a working wife coming home to find the mistress, her hands reaching for Madeline's neck. The older man was quick to stop the prude woman and hold her back and the woman's manicured nails only just fell short of scratching Madeline's face. She pushed away from the old man and straightened her blouse.

"Don't touch me." She snapped, putting her hands up sharply and glaring at Madeline who gave her a sickeningly sweet smile that could only mean ' _fuck you_ '.

" _Ding ding ding ding ding."_ Riddler said through the PA, making the sound himself. "That was an easy one of course, I knew you would get that one. How about a harder one? _What goes up must come down, except for me. What am I?_ ' Go!"

"What the hell." The angry man shouted, throwing his hands up with frustration. "That doesn't give us much to go on." Madeline felt tugging at her shirt and looked down to see that little boy who had been trapped in here while his mother was outside. She'd completely forgotten about him and suddenly felt the urge to give him a hug, her maternal instincts going into overdrive.

"Are you okay?" She asked, crouching down so she was at the boys level. He was very young, too young to have been able to get away from his mother so easily.

"Where is my mummy?" He cried, rubbing at his eyes. "I want mummy!"

"Mummy isn't here right now okay, but I'll look after you until we can get out of here." Madeline said as sweetly as she could. It was difficult not to swear.

"What is your name?" She asked.

"Anthony." The little boy said, sniffling a bit.

"Okay Anthony. And how old you?"

"Six. But I'll be seven next month." Anthony said, being quick to add that he was going to be older soon as all growing kids liked to do.

Then the answer hit Madeline like a freight train and leaped to her feet.

"Age. Age! The answer is your age!" She yelled, pointing at the ballot box. "Someone write it down!"

"Are you sure." The older man asked as he went to the ballot box.

"Positive. Just write it down." Madeline ordered, glancing at the clock that told them they only had a few seconds left. The older man shoved the paper into the box and stepped back quickly as if the column were about to explode. Everyone braced themselves for the answer as the clock hand ticked down to their fate.

Waylon had never swam so fast in his life. He powered through the underwater tunnels he'd used the first time he'd gone to the bombs location when he had set it up for Riddler. There was debris in the tunnel since it was once part of the old Gotham, and fallen pillars, crumbling walls and a few bits of broken glass made it difficult to move quickly without bumping into things and getting lacerated. He felt like an idiot for helping Riddler, not to mention the worst boyfriend ever. He couldn't have know that Madeline would get caught up in Riddler's little game, but the fact that she had meant that it was partly _his_ fault and if anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

He didn't quite know how he was supposed to defuse the explosives, Batman had seriously overestimated his intelligence on that part. Would ripping all the cords out work? Or did he have to cut only the red wire. _He_ didn't care so much if it exploded in his face since he had survived such things before, but it was the fact that Madeline would die as well that made him worry. He didn't know what he'd do without her in his life. She had become such an integral part of his existence he couldn't imagine living without her. Without her kiss, without her arms around him, without her sweet singing voice that took away all the pain and replaced it with love. If that one light in life went out, he'd probably go mad.

Waylon reached the grate that lead to the hallway near where the explosives were stacked and pushed the lid off. He climbed out and hurried along the hallway to the door that Riddler had locked electronically. He didn't know the code to the door and it was reinforced so he couldn't just kick it down. He looked for another way in but couldn't see anything would help. With no other option he placed his hands against the door and pushed with all his might to break it down. It was heavy and stubborn, not even moving an inch as he used all the force he could muster. He clenched his teeth and grunted as he pushed against the door, yet it still didn't move. Enraged, he slammed his fists down on the metal, not even leaving a dent.

"Damn it!" He cursed, banging on the door again and pushing off to pace back and forth, growling low as he tried to think of what to do next. He had no choice. He had to go and get Madeline out before the bank blew up. He'd have to be quick, if Riddler spotted him he'd set the bombs off automatically and kill them all. Hopefully Riddler would be too preoccupied with Batman to pay full attention to the CCTV and give Waylon the opportunity to save Madeline and not ruin his reputation in the process.

He spun around and headed back to the tunnels. He knew there was another passageway that went around and under the back of the bank. If he could break through the flooring there he could get inside and get Madeline out quickly, and if the explosives went off in the process, the tunnel was short enough to get to the sewer system and back out onto the surface before the explosion collapsed it, but only if they ran like hell. As for the other hostages, they could follow if they wanted too, but he wasn't going to stay behind and help anybody. Madeline was his number one priority, and nothing would change that.

 **Okay I know its not an especially long chapter but there is too much in the next chapter for me to put it in this one. Keep watching and I will get the next one up as soon as I can and we will see what happens. Do they escape? Do they die horribly? Who knows.**


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Fifteen riddles in and everyone was getting exhausted from the stress of that sixty seconds counting down to their doom. The prude woman had been mildly useful in answers a few of the riddles, and the older man had answered his fair share too. The angry man just complained every time they got one, saying it was stupid and didn't have an answer to it, and the bank robber seemed to just stand about leering at Madeline. She tried not to look at him and turned her back so she could pay more attention to Anthony who was being very well-behaved considering the situation.

"Can we leave yet?" He asked, tugging on Madeline's shirt again.

"Not just yet sweetie. A little bit longer to go." Madeline lied, she had no clue how long they were going to be stuck in the bank, and she also had no clue _who_ would be rescuing them. Would the police force attempt to rescue them, or would Batman swoop in and do it in broad daylight.

Madeline really wanted her rescuer to be Waylon but she knew that wouldn't happen. He had no idea she was held hostage inside the bank, he was probably at the warehouse or somewhere in the sewers stalking about blissfully unaware. Madeline's train of thought decided to take a macabre rout and she started to wonder what would happen if she died. How long until Waylon found out that she was among the victims? What would he do when he found out? Would he mourn her? Would he seek revenge on Riddler?

"Don't be scared baby." The robber said, appearing dangerously close behind Madeline and running the back of his hand down Madeline's arm. She bolted away from him, turning as she did so and glaring with ferocity.

"Keep your hands off me!" Madeline snapped, moving Anthony behind her as they backed away. The robber looked angry but not quite angry enough yet to try anything. Madeline scooted over to the older man and the prude woman, at least they wouldn't perv on her.

"Next riddle." Riddler announced. " _Every night I am told what to do, and every morning I do as I am told. Yet I still do not escape your scold. What am I?_ "

This was a hard one and Madeline found herself coming up with blanks. The prude woman looked around desperately for someone to have the answer, terror covering her face. The older man was deep in pensive thought but looked worried as beads of sweat slid down his brow, and the angry man yet again threw his hands in the air with frustration while the robber remained useless. Madeline looked around for something in the room to spark the answer to form in her head. It was always something simple, but what could it be? Her attention was caught by the other robber over at the tellers desks where he seemed to be berating them. Madeline made Anthony stay where he was and she carefully went over to see what all the fuss was about.

"You pressed the god damn button didn't you bitch!" The other robber accused, waving his gun at the bullet proof window as the tellers huddled together as far away from him as they could.

"Well she had to." Madeline interrupted, startling the robber a little with her sudden presence beside him. "Now the police are on their way to get us out of here."

"I ain't going to jail." The robber said rather skittishly, shaking his head like a tweeker.

"It's better than dying isn't it?" Madeline asked, honestly confused as to why this guy was making such a big deal about the alarm being pressed when the issue wasn't them anymore. Then, it hit Madeline like a rude awakening first thing in the morning. Alarm. Alarm clock. The answer was an alarm clock.

"Its alarm clock!" She yelled, and the others were quick to spring into action to write down their answer with less than ten seconds on the clock. As she was about to go over to them for the next riddle, she felt a large hand grab at her bottom and squeeze. Unless this guy was a crocodile she was going to slap him. And of course, when she spun around so did her hand and she delivered one hard slap across the first bank robber's face. Upon delivering the slap however, she realised what a bad idea that was and before she could back away the robber grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back.

"Let me go!" Madeline ordered as the robber reached around with his free hand to caress Madeline's breasts and down her stomach. She felt her body quiver with fear, a bad kind of quivering.

"You're getting a little too big for your britches." The robber whispered in Madeline's ear, his words disgusting and his tongue dangerously close. She wanted to recoil away from him but couldn't move, her arm holding her in place. The robber caressed some more, around her back and across her bottom, up her spine and back around to her shoulders and across her collarbone. Once his hand was within striking distance however, Madeline took the chance given to her and snapped down hard on the robber's hand, sinking her teeth into his flesh. Her chemistry with Waylon seemed to make sense now with all the biting _she_ did.

The robber, out of shock and pain, let her go and she staggered forward towards the others but was quick stopped by a gunshot that almost hit her in the leg. She froze up as she turned around, the robber with the gun had a horrible, seedy look on his face and the other seemed really angry about his hand.

"You little bitch!" The first robber snapped, shaking his hand to try and shake off the pain. "You are going to pay for that. I ain't going to jail without first getting my dick wet and you missy, just volunteered." The second robber held the gun to Madeline's head and gripped at her arm but didn't wrap it around her back. The end of the gun was quite warm but no less terrifying than cold metal as he forced Madeline to move over to one of the desks. The first robber took over from there and put his whole body weight on Madeline, pinning her down as he fumbled with his own zipper. Madeline tried to wriggle free but her hands were stuck underneath her body and she couldn't get them out.

The others tried to come over and intervene but the second robber held his gun up and froze them in place out of fear.

"Just keep answering the riddles!" Madeline called, trying again to get free but the first robber shoved her head against the desk. He reached around and slipped his hand inside Madeline's pants and the feeling of his dirty hands against her skin made her feel physically sick.

"You got lacy panties on." The robber leered. "You're practically asking for it." He unzipped Madeline's jeans and yanked them down. Madeline felt a tear fall from her eye and dribble down her cheek. Was this really going to happen? Here? Now? Where was Batman? Where was the police? Why hadn't anyone tried to save them. To save her? She shut her eyes tight and prayed that someone would show up and save them, or at the very least crush this motherfucker behind her into a fine paste on the marble flooring.

A roar. A loud roar defining everyone in the room. Madeline could feel the desk vibrate with the concussing sound of the primal, raging roar. She looked up and opened her eyes to see the most beautiful sight, an giant angry crocodile with bared teeth dribbling saliva and yellow eyes prowling towards them. The ridges on his back seemed to stand up a little more than usual, a bit like an angry dog's hackles. He stalked towards Madeline and the robbers who seemed too petrified to move. Madeline found herself giggling which only made the robber more scared.

"You are so screwed." She giggled as the robber let go of her and back away, yanking his pants up. The second robber aimed the gun at Waylon, not that it would do much good, and when he fired the bullet merely bounced off Waylon's chest. The robbers went a ghostly pale as Madeline pulled her jeans up and stepped to the side. The minutia she was out of the way, Waylon lunged forward and ear-splitting screams filled the bank, not just from the robbers being torn limb from limb and eaten alive but also from the terrified mass of hostages who desperately clawed at the sealed doors and windows for an escape.

Madeline watched with a smile on her face as the two robbers were mutilated unrecognisably. It was satisfying to watch assholes like them get torn to shreds, if only the same could be done for Caleb and all the other assholes Madeline wanted gone. There was something different though about the way Waylon was killing them though, something was more sexy about it in Madeline's eyes. She watched closely, at the ferocity, at the rage, at the power. Then she noticed something. His eyes were normal. They hadn't gone to slits but remained dilated as he crushed the robbers to pieces. _That_ was why Madeline found herself getting a little turned on by watching, this Waylon's primal _human_ rage being unleashed here, the rage of a man who would destroy anyone who dared to hurt or molest _his_ girl.

Everyone looked terrified however, so Madeline decided to cut the little gore fest short. She hurried over to Waylon.

"Hey." She called, deciding it was better to verbally interrupt rather than physically since he might get a bit carried away in the blood lust. Waylon did stop and turned around, his aggression suddenly switching to concern as he reached out and cupped Madeline's face with his hand.

"Are you okay?" He asked worriedly, examining Madeline for injuries. "Did they..?" Madeline shook her head and nuzzled into Waylon's hand. It was so nice to see him again, especially as he rescued her from certain death.

"You got here _just_ in time." Madeline said with a smile. Waylon was covered in blood and it practically dribbled from his mouth, staining his scales and making him appear rather terrifying, nevertheless, Madeline still wanted to kiss him.

"CROC? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Riddler yelled through the speakers, so loud he made the frequency mess up and screech painfully. "HOW DID YOU GET IN?" Waylon stalked towards the PA speaker, everyone moving out of his way as quickly as possible, and pointed his clawed finger.

"I'm here..." He snapped, clenching his other fists. "...because of all the people in Gotham for you to hold hostage in your stupid little riddle game you just had to go and throw my girlfriend into the mix didn't ya!" Madeline found herself blushing at how aggressive Waylon was in protecting her, it was enough to make a girl swoon. Unfortunately it kind of null and voided her whole argument with the prude woman earlier.

"Oh." Riddler answered, sounding less angry and more concerned for his own welfare. "I didn't know..."

"I don't fucking care if you didn't know. I'm going to find you and I'm going to rip those skinny little legs of yours off and use them as toothpicks!"

"Alright alright. I don't want to deal with this right now. Tell you what. You leave the way you came in, take your girl with you, seal it up behind you and let me continue with the rest of the hostages as if nothing had ever happened."

"Deal." Waylon said, at the exact same time Madeline said no.

"No?" Waylon asked, looking startled.

"No." Madeline reiterated. "We can't just leave everyone here to die. We have to take them with us."

"What?" Waylon exclaimed, stalking over to Madeline and speaking in a hushed voice she'd hardly ever heard him use. "You have any idea how bad it looks for me to help rescue people?"

"How did you find out about my captivity in the first place?" Madeline said stubbornly, folding her arms. She bet it was Batman who had told him.

"Batman." Waylon admitted. Called it.

"Exactly. And I bet he wanted you to save everyone."

"I don't get your point. Ever heard of double crossing someone?"

Madeline sighed and unfolded her arms. She looked down. This was to be the first snag in their relationship. A difference of morals. It was easy to forget that Waylon was indeed a remorseless criminal and Madeline, despite the connotations associated with her profession, didn't like the idea of innocence dying.

"Look." She began. "I know it's bad for your reputation as a Gotham super criminal to save people, but these people have lives, families, friends. They don't deserve to die." Waylon growled and bared his teeth but Madeline could tell he was thinking it over.

"Croc, don't you dare." Riddler warned, no doubt his finger was on the button for the explosives. Waylon looked as if he were fighting himself in his head as he looked around sharply and clenched his fists. Madeline really wanted him to do the _right_ thing, even if it meant he'd be mad at her later.

"There is a tunnel that way." Waylon said begrudgingly, pointing at the way he had come in which was near the vault and through several, now _broken_ , doors. "I ain't helping you get through it so move your asses!" Madeline ran up to Waylon and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you." She whispered, and got a half smile from Waylon.

"You owe me big time." He warned, and turned to leave as the other hostages ran for their lives.

"You will regret that!" Riddler shouted over the PA and there was the faint sound of a click as he pressed a button. There was no explosion... yet."

"The bombs are on a timer, ten seconds, we gotta move!" Waylon called. Madeline glanced over at the ballot box where Anthony was still stood, looking terrified and confused. Seriously? No one had thought to grab the small child and take him to safety. As she ran to go get him a thought popped into her head regarding their ten second time limit for escape. How did Waylon know the bombs had a timer?

"Come on!" Madeline yelled, picking up Anthony and turning to run. Waylon was waiting by the tunnel entrance for them, beckoning for them to move. Madeline ran as fast as her legs could carry her but then she heard a terrible sound. A dull, thunderous sound that made the floor beneath her feet move and tear apart. She kept running and everything seemed to feel like it was slowing down as she ran with Anthony in her arms. She could see Waylon move to run and get her as the walls began to crumble and fall, the giant columns collapsing and making the bank cave in on them. She tried to force her legs to move faster but they felt heavier than ever, and Anthony screamed as the floor beneath them cracked in two. Madeline reached out as if it could get her to Waylon quicker but a column fell between them, the force of it knocking her back.

Before it she hit the floor however, she felt a strong arm behind her back that pulled her close and secured her. She found herself and Anthony shooting through the air at top speed, Waylon still on the ground. She noticed the black cape in her peripheral vision. Batman. She reached out as the rest of the bank collapsed.  
"WAYLON!" She cried, but the bank crumbled into pieces and even though Waylon tried to make a run for the exit a column landed on his bank, pinning him to the ground as the rest of the rubble fell on top of him. Madeline felt a horrible pain in her chest, as if someone had just stabbed her heart with a thousand spikes all at once. Was he..? Could he be..? he couldn't be...? Was he dead?"

They shot through an opening in the collapsing roof of the bank and up onto the building next-door, landing on the roof top. Madeline let go of Anthony, practically dropping him and scurried over to the edge of the roof to see the dust begin to settle on the destroyed bank. No Waylon in sight. She took a pained breath in and felt her body shake violently. Her whole body shook, her jaw, her lips, her hands and legs, even her vision wouldn't steady. He was gone? He was dead? No, he couldn't be. He was strong. He'd have to survive this.

Madeline pressed her head against the ground and bit her lip so hard she drew blood. It was her fault. She'd done this. If only she'd agreed to go with him and leave everyone else behind. Most of them had been assholes anyway. She shouldn't have gone back for Anthony, she should have just run for it. She shook her head and tears streamed down her face. She would gladly go back and toss aside her morals to save him, to keep Waylon in her life. She didn't want did want to go on without him. He was everything to her, and now she'd killed him.

Suddenly, there was a deafening roar that gave her a shock of hope rather than fear and she bolted her head up to see the rubble explode as Waylon burst out from beneath it. He looked pissed as all hell, especially when the cops that had been surrounding the bank opened fire. He roared at them but instead of attacking he glanced around and spotted Madeline on the rooftop. Madeline felt a wave of relief come over her when he spotted her, however he still looked pissed off. Upon seeing Madeline was okay he turned and bolted for the sewer entrance, ignoring the gunfire and throwing the manhole cover aside as he crawled down into its depths.

Madeline got to her feet and wiped the tears from her eyes. He was okay. It was all okay. Well, not really, but for the most part it was okay. He was alive, that was all the mattered.

"He was supposed to defuse the bomb." Batman muttered, drawing Madeline's attention away from the destroyed bank. She folded her arms and glared at him.

"He isn't that smart and you know it." She growled. Anthony was by her side but she could tell he was enchanted by Batman, the caped hero of Gotham and royal pain in Madeline's side.

"No. But you are?" Batman said blankly, and Madeline started to feel a little stupid. Was she supposed to leave with Waylon and then go and defuse the bomb? No, surely not. She wasn't _that_ smart.

"What do you mean?" She asked, fairly certain he wasn't referring to a plan of action that would have worked a lot better than the one she'd chosen.

"You are smart enough to know you shouldn't be involved with him." Batman explained and Madeline groaned with exhaustion.

"Not this again. You're like a dad, always nagging that the guy I like isn't good enough for me and I should be with someone else."

"That's because it's true."

"No it isn't!" Madeline snapped, just about ready to hit Batman for his insolence. "You don't know him like I do."

"I know he's a violent killer who shows no remorse." Batman said, sounding like a stuck up know it all who had to be right about everything. Madeline hated that type of person.

"Perhaps, he acts the way he does because of the way _you_ and everyone else in this world treats him. What was that saying? Treat someone like a monster and they will become a monster."

"Nevertheless, he _has_ become a monster and a very dangerous one at that."

Madeline turned away from Batman, she didn't even want to look at him.

"So what is your solution then?" She hissed. "Throw him in Arkham and blame _him_ when he gets tired of being zapped within an inch of his life and lashes out? Or perhaps you'd rather just kill him like you did Joker, be done with it already." She glanced back and saw that Batman's expression had changed a little. Joker was obviously a sore spot.

"The world throws torment and hardship at us all the time, it's how we respond to it that makes us who we are." Batman said, sounding like he was quoting Stan Lee or something, either way what he said made Madeline very angry. She spun around.

"Oh so let me guess. You had _one_ bad day that made you become Batman huh? You lose a family member, get orphaned or something? That one bad day made you into the _hero of Gotham_ that you are today." Madeline yelled, really wanting to punch Batman in his stupid face. "What about years of torment huh? A lifetime of being ridiculed, bullied, hated by society because of something you were born with. More than just _one_ bad day. So what about that huh? Should he have become a hero after all of that, or just let it wash over him, or perhaps seeking revenge on the world was the only logical way to respond."

Batman was silent, he didn't have a response for that. Or rather, he didn't _want_ to respond. Madeline folded her arms again and turned away, staring down at the rubble. She wanted to go and see Waylon again, make sure he was okay and take any yelling he had stored up for her so she could get it over with and just hold him.

"He _will_ kill you Madeline." Batman said, his voice getting rather annoying. "Maybe not today but at some point you will die and I can guarantee it will be at _his_ hands." Madeline pursed her lips and scowled before turning around with a smile.

"And you know what, I'm fine with that." She said, her answer shocking Batman a little. "And do you want to know why." She walked forward, right up to Batman so they were practically nose to nose.

"Because even if he ripped me to shreds, even if he crushes me in his jaws, even if he eats me alive I will _not_ blame him for it. Why? Because I know the reason for his uncontrollable savagery and hatred for the world, caused by the continued abuse and mistreatment in Arkham Asylum. I will not blame _him_ for killing me. Oh no, I will blame _you_!"

 **Intense! I did get a bit of inspiration from Joker for the bit about** ** _one_** **bad day but gave it a batman twist. That little nugget can be found in The Killing Joke. Hope you liked that chapter, sorry about the almost rape scene but it had to be done, please leave a comment and keep an eye out for the next chapter. I think we are about half way through the whole story so plenty more to go.**


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

"THE FUCK WAS THAT?" Waylon roared the minute Madeline walked through the door of the warehouse. He had planned on yelling at her for making him save those hostages and ultimately cause the building to be blown up, resulting in him being crushed by rubble and shot at by police. Yelling, that was all he had planned, however, it had come out as more of a roar, the kind he used when dealing with Batman and he half expected Madeline to scream in response, thinking he'd gone crazy. However, Madeline did not run away or scream in horror at the giant crocodile man roaring at her with a jaw full of sharp teeth and claws capable of dismemberment. No, in fact she practically roared back.

"WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO? LET THE LITTLE BOY DIE?" She screamed with quite an impressive pair of lungs for such a small creature.

"You didn't have to make me rescue everyone!" Waylon yelled, this time actually yelling and not roaring, he didn't want anyone investigating the noise. He still _wanted_ to roar of course, his back hurt like hell from all the rubble.

"It was hardly rescuing." Madeline sneered, throwing her hands up in the air and pacing away from Waylon only to turn back to him once she'd reached the wall. "It was letting people make a run for it rather than sealing them in for their fate. That isn't rescuing, that is just _not_ being an asshole." Waylon didn't know the fucking difference, letting people go was still saving them, and the reputation he would now have because of it would still be the same. The reputation that he was a push over goody goody who did whatever his girlfriend told him to like a good dog.

"We could have just left, come back here, and forgotten about it. Heck, who knows, perhaps Batman could have saved them all like he usually does." Waylon growled, throwing _his_ hands in the air out of frustration. Now that he was thinking about it that would have been a better plan. Batman was a pain in the ass but he almost always saved the day, hence Waylon's repeated incarceration.

"Oh yeah you can say that now that everyone is alive and safe. You weren't there. You weren't in the bank answering riddle after riddle, praying that you got it right and going through everyone you've ever known in your head, wondering if they will miss you when you're dead!" Madeline hissed, prowling forward like an angry lioness about to pounce, she was actually kind of scary. "I'm sorry, but in _that_ moment you don't care about _risking it_ to see if Batman shows up and saves you, no, you want to get the fuck out and I'm sorry if I gave that option of getting the fuck out of dodge to the other people since I'm assuming they were going through EXACTLY THE SAME THING!"

"I GOT CRUSHED BY A BUILDING!" Waylon roared, again being far too aggressive and loud but Madeline didn't even blink in fact, she continued to move forward, speaking in a calm but sinister voice.

"Oh yeah, you did get crushed by a building didn't you. A building that was blown up by a bomb that you _somehow_ knew had a ten second timer?"

Oh shit. Women really did remember every little thing you said, and that little titbit of information might as well have been an atom bomb because Waylon found himself backing away from it, and the ever approaching Madeline who seemed to have a rather evil look on her face. He felt the cool metal wall against his back and felt as tiny as a mouse in comparison to this literally tiny monstrosity approaching him with the mother of all argument. Why did he want a girlfriend again? Oh yeah, sex. Was it really worth being this terrified though.

"I... err..."

"Yeah, let's talk about _that_ shall we? How did you know about the bombs having a timer huh? You play a part in this little scheme?"

"I didn't ' _play a part_ '. Riddler paid me to set up the bombs for him because he's a weakling." Waylon confessed. She couldn't be mad at him for this could she? How could he have known she'd be one of the hostages. Sure enough Madeline's face lit up with ecstatic triumph and rage.

"Ah ha, so you're the reason the bombs were there in the first place!" She accused triumphantly, the mystery solved.

"No, Riddler is. I just did a job." Waylon corrected, not nearly as forcefully as he'd wanted to since Madeline was positively terrifying.

"A job that almost got me killed!"

"How was I supposed to know that would happen? Besides, you're alive aren't you?"

"Doesn't matter if you ' _didn't know_ ' I would be a hostage, the point is _you_ set up the bombs and I _was_ a hostage, so I think me wanting to save a couple people pales in comparison to you nearly getting me killed."

" _You_ were the one who nearly got _me_ killed when Riddler blew up the building. Remember, the whole of Gotham Bank fell on top of me!" Waylon snapped, building up steam again. She wasn't _that_ terrifying, she was only five foot something.

"Of course I remember, I watched it happen with tears in my eyes trying to think about how I was going to live in a world without the man I loved!"

Neither of them said anything. Neither of them even took a breath. Madeline's stubborn face was flushing red, and not because of the lack of oxygen. Waylon felt all the anger fade from him and he stared at Madeline, dumbfounded. Had she just said what he'd thought she said. Madeline bit her lip, her eyes wide and somewhat scared. She didn't make eye contact with Waylon, but he stared straight at her, silently begging for her to lift her gaze and look him in the eyes again. The pain in his back was gone, practically a distant memory with this never ending silence weighing down on them like that building, only this was heavier. He wanted her to say it again, just one more time so he could listen to the words carefully.

However, Madeline didn't say anything. She stood awkwardly with one hand rubbing her arm as she chewed her lip as if it were steak. Waylon didn't know quite what to do. Madeline had surely said what he thought he'd heard her say but did she mean it or had it just come out and now she was regretting it. He had said it to her a while ago after their first time, but she hadn't heard him. He didn't regret telling her that he loved her, he only regretted the fact that he hadn't said it sooner. This seemed like one of those situations you regretted for the rest of your life if you didn't make the right choice, and you had no way of knowing which choice _was_ the right one, and perhaps even both choices might have their own negative consequences. He had to pick one, he had to do something. He couldn't just leave it in silence.

"Madeline." He said, stepping forward and tilting Madeline's chin up with his hand. The minute their skin touched he felt a small tingle travel around his body, making his blood bubble pleasantly and his whole body relax. He was nervous but tried to hide it, as did Madeline, but she still wouldn't look at him in the eyes. Perhaps she was regretting saying anything? No, he couldn't think like that, he had to act and find out once and for all how she felt.

"Look at me." He coaxed gently, and although Madeline seemed to resist his request her eyes did eventually make their gaze meet with his. Their eyes locked and her beautiful green emeralds looked so bright and hopeful, let somewhat scared and nervous like a young girl about to receive her first kiss. Waylon wanted to melt she was so cute, even with her freckles covered by makeup. He swallowed any nerves he had and tried to put on a brave face. He moved a little closer, putting his hand behind Madeline's back to pull her into him. She felt warm to the touch, defiantly nervous, but her whole body language, as rigid as it was, seemed to be more eager than reluctant. As if she were begging him to say the words she could not.

"Madeline I..." he began, the words hesitant on his tongue. He'd never even thought he'd say something like this, not to someone conscious at least. He'd never thought anyone would make him _want_ to say the words, let alone hear them from his lips.

"I..." He said again, desperately trying to get the words out but now he was the nervous stuttering fool fumbling with words and making everything awkward. He'd had two choices for approaching this situation, and he'd just gone and fucked the one he'd picked up beyond repair. What was he, a little kid? A fool who couldn't say three simple words? He was supposed to be a big macho badass, not a stuttering weakling. What would Madeline think of him now?

"I love you." She said, catching Waylon of guard once again. Madeline looked as if she had been fighting with herself to say the words too. She looked so scared. Scared of his response. They were kind of similar in the way they thought so perhaps she had been wondering about _his_ response to her saying the words just as he had been wondering about her. It was silly really, anyone watching them would just be screaming for them to get the words out. It was the kiss thing all over again.

"Say it again?" Waylon asked, wanting to hear the words and pay full attention this time, third time lucky. Madeline seemed to swallow down her nerves as well and gave a somewhat awkward but sweet smile.

"I love you?" She said as if it were a question, one for herself and not Waylon. The words were like music to his ears, a tune he had never heard before. It was amazing to hear her say that to him, to have someone actually _love_ him, and he had no doubt that she did indeed love him. And he loved her.

"I love you too." He said in the most normal voice he could manage with minimal growling. Madeline's awkward smile grew into a happy one, but then her eyes started to swell with tears and the edges of her smile turned downwards. Her face flushed red once more and she burst into loud and uncontrollable sobbing, and not the pretty kind.

"What's going on?" Waylon asked, now more terrified than he had ever been in his life. What the fuck was going on? Why was she crying?

"I'm just so happy." Madeline sobbed, really going for it with everything dribbling down her face. Waylon didn't know what to do so he just pulled her close and held her tight, hugging helped women stop crying didn't it?

"If you're happy then why are you crying?" Waylon asked cautiously, worried that anything he said might make her cry even louder, and she was sobbing louder than his roaring at the moment.

"I'm on my period!" Madeline cried, and started sobbing and screaming even more. She nuzzled into Waylon's chest, getting it wet and covered in mucus and other facial fluids that spilled when you cried. He felt his blood turn cold. The dreaded female menstrual cycle, he'd heard of its powers of women before but damn was it terrifying. Give him Batman over _this_ any day.

Waylon scooped Madeline up and plopped her on the couch before sitting next to her and holding her in his arms so she could sob in comfort. She sniffled and cried a little more quietly in Waylon's arms and once she had settled down to the occasional sniff he dared to speak.

"So you love me huh?" He asked, trying to sound jovial to cheer her up, although it seemed only ice cream and chocolate could achieve such a thing.

"Yep, I guess so." Madeline said, wiping the remaining tears from her red and blotchy eyes, the bulk of crying over and done with. "I guess you're stuck with me."

"I don't have a problem with that." Waylon said, giving Madeline a delicate kiss on the lips. Madeline kissed back with more passion and put her arms around her neck as he pulled her onto his lap. Her face was still blotchy and red but that didn't make her any less attractive in his eyes, plus if he didn't kiss her because of a silly little reason like that she'd probably rip his head off.

Their lips parted just as Waylon was about to get into it and Madeline cast her eyes down, looking rather solemn.

"I'm sorry." Madeline muttered, sounding forlorn.

"For what?" Waylon asked, trying to see Madeline's face. If she started crying again...

"For getting you crushed by a building." Madeline explained with a pout. "You were right, it _is_ my fault." Waylon shook his head and chuckled slightly to himself. She was so adorable.

"No its not."

"But it is!" Madeline exclaimed, sounding like she was going to cry again. "If I had just gone with you when Riddler gave us the chance it wouldn't have..." Waylon put his hand on the back of Madeline's neck to hold her head up and stared into her eyes, his expression stern.

"Don't apologise. Not to me." He said firmly but calm. "You are the only woman who has ever stood up to me and fought back against me. You are so fiery and stubborn, I love that about you. Don't change it, not for me."

He really did mean what he said. Madeline was one of the few people who had ever stood their ground against him, not in a physical way but mentally. Most people cracked when he roared and the sharp teeth and long claws came out to play, but Madeline had just stood there unmovable when he'd roared at her, powerful, strong, everything he wanted in a woman. Sure, she didn't hold her ground when he went crazy but that was a different story, and even then she was the only one who could calm him down. It seemed as though Madeline was the ' _only person_ ' for a lot of things in Waylon's life. It wasn't surprising, she was the only one for him.

Madeline bit her lip in a stubborn but happy way, as if she had been trying to resist his charms and finally given in. Her eyes were cheeky, mischievous. The kind of eyes that usually spelled trouble, the fun kind.

"You are too cute." She said with a sly grin. "Where are you coming up with all these lines huh? Been taking lessons."

"Na." Waylon laughed with a grin, an ugly one but it was the only type of grin he could manage. "I'm just a natural poet or something." Madeline giggled and pressed her lips against his in a tender kiss. He had heard about the common pattern for the female menstrual cycle. Horniness was in there somewhere wasn't it? Could that come out soon?

Sadly Madeline parted the kiss and climbed off Waylon's lap to sit on the edge of the couch. She covered her face with her hands and groaned into it. Waylon suddenly became very worried that he'd done something wrong. Wasn't everything good between them? They'd just confessed love, didn't sex usually follow. He didn't mean to be an ass but since getting a taste of a willing, free and loving woman, especially one as beautiful and sexy as Madeline, he kind of had an addictive itch to scratch.

"What's wrong?" He asked, slightly afraid she'd start crying again, or skip the horny stage and go back to yelling. Women were so unpredictable. Perhaps he could try and sweet talk his way back to that last part they were getting into, the bit about him being cute and a poet. He seemed to be on point today. Maybe if he...

"I need $50,000 in three days." Madeline said blankly, her words like a sledge hammer to the mood, crushing any hopes Waylon had of getting laid today.

"Come again?" He asked, wondering perhaps if he'd not heard it right. Surely she hadn't said she needed $50,000 in three days.

"I need $50,000 in three days." She said again, the words crystal clear and since Waylon had very good hearing he knew the mood was completely and utterly crushed. He shook his head a little to deal with the jolt in conversation and atmosphere and before he could ask Madeline hopped to her feet and turned to face him.

"Look I wouldn't ask if it wasn't serious alright? And this is really bad timing and I know I've killed the mood..."

"You can say that again." Waylon muttered, and Madeline's eyes turned cold when she heard it. Her tone became more sharp and authoritative. Unluckily for her that was one of Waylon's turn-on's so perhaps the mood wasn't gone forever.

"My mother is a junkie! A stupid and gullible junkie who can't even look after my little brother properly, okay?" Madeline snapped, the angry side of the menstrual cycle coming back into play. "The bikers in town gave her a ' _free_ ' sample of their latest product and then persuaded her to buy a shit tonne of it once she was high. Now they want $50,000 for it. Twenty five for the drugs and another twenty five because the biker in charge of the deal is my ex."

"You're ex!" Waylon exclaimed, that being the only part of the conversation he was really concerned with. He hadn't given it much thought but Madeline was an extremely hot girl, it was only logical that she'd have a string of exes. The thought of Madeline with another man made his blood boil but then he began to worry about what these guys looked like. Were they hot studs who won the hearts of all the ladies. How much of a step down was he in comparison. The thought of _that_ only made him angry again. _Now_ who was the hormonal mood switching one? Madeline raised an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips.

"Seriously? I tell you my mother is a drug addict and you focus on the ex part?"

"Sorry, it's a man thing." Waylon apologised, fearing the wrath of Madeline once more. "So how are you... I mean _we_ going to get $50,000 dollars. I don't have jack shit."

"What about that job for Riddler?" Madeline asked with that triumphant grin. Damn, did women remember everything?

"Yeah but I've spent most of that. Living here isn't free you know, I gotta pay to keep the dock supervisors quiet. And then I had to give most of it back for that date I ruined with my fear of lighting." Waylon explained, promptly leaving out the subscription to a pornographic magazine company.

"I've only got $17,000. And work isn't exactly going to pay the rest unless Joker rises from the grave and wants a lap dance for forty eight hours."

"You have $17,000? Shit. And here I thought _I_ was the sugar daddy in the relationship. Where's my Rolex?"

"Shut up." Madeline growled, but she did crack a smile. His charms really were on point today.

"Okay." Waylon said, deciding that he should really try and focus on this issue. "So what do you want me to do? I can see if Harvey has a bank robbery planned, or perhaps I can rob Penguin again, although I think by the third time he might be a little more prepared."

"No no. You aren't doing this alone. I'm going to help you in any way I can. Even if that means running into Batman." Madeline added quickly. Waylon shook his head with despair and sighed.

"Why can't we just kill them all?" He asked. It was a reasonable suggestion, and even thought Madeline had qualms with letting people die she had shown no care for the lives of criminals. Except for _him_ of course.

"Because they are an entire biker gang that spans across several towns and one small city. They'll kill my mother and brother if we attack. I have to pay them and get mum out of this shit."

Madeline was pacing back and forth, biting at her nails. She looked stressed, as she should be, and the sight of her so worried hurt a little to see. Waylon reached out and took her arm to pull her over to him. She fell into his lap, her legs over one of his thighs and her back against the other like a lounging princess on the throne.

"We'll think of something. I'll ask around, see what's going." Waylon said, running his hand through Madeline's silky hair. "It'll work out, trust me." Madeline gave him a kiss and bit her lip once more.

"I'm sorry to do this to you." She said in a meek voice, going back to the sad mood. "I just can't get the money on my own and... I can pay you back... if you give me several years." Waylon chuckled at the idea and leaned in close to kiss Madeline once more. Madeline slid down against his leg and her legs went up in the air. He ran his hand down the outside of her thigh and once it reached her belt he began to unbuckle it. Madeline broke the kiss again.

"I told you I'm on my period." Madeline said, but it wasn't exactly an order to stop. "There's blood and stuff." Waylon rolled his eyes.

"Babe, exactly which cannibal do you think you're talking to?"

 **Okay so a lot happened in this chapter but there was a lot I wanted to throw into there. And just a friendly little reminder of reality that we women look horrible we cry, but the best guys still find us attractive when we do. Sorry this took so long I had a test and stuff (human biology, bleh. Not even reproduction) hopefully I shall be a bit better with updates. Please let me know if you have any ideas on what heist or job they should do to get money. Who would you like to see appear in the chapters to come. Twoface? Maybe Bane for some muscle on muscle action (fighting, not Yaoi... although... no!). Please let me know in a review.**


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Waylon stood outside the old Pinkney Orphanage by the Gotham river, the towering brick walls stained black from years of neglect and the windows boarded shut. There was an old statue in the middle of the garden and just behind it was a big searchlight, switched off of course, with a black question mark painted over it so when switched on, the front of the orphanage would display Riddler's insignia. No one ever came out to the orphanage anymore, it was in the forgotten part of Gotham, so Waylon had no need to be cautious. It did feel weird walking around out in the open though, so he was quick to go inside. He opened the wooden doors and stepped inside a hallway covered with green question marks scrawled in dripping paint. Even a small pile of building blocks on the floor had question marks drawn on them.

He continued through the hallway of what was once the home for abandoned children with no one to love them, the building itself following suit. Waylon imagined that if his aunt hadn't taken him then he would have ended up somewhere like this, only he'd most certainly never get adopted and likely end up worse than he was. The hallway came out into a larger room that would have been the front office or sorts with a small bookcase and desk in the corner and a table or two along the walls, covered in various children's toys bearing the Riddler insignia. Okay, this was getting mildly creepy.

The wall across from where he was standing was missing, blown out by an explosive or something into a very large room that looked to be a grand hall of some description with four doors, two on either side. There was a large curtain, or perhaps just a piece of ragged fabric, hanging from the wall and as Waylon hopped down from the ledge into the open space an old projector switched on and Riddler's face appeared on the fabric looking very pissed off.

"What are you doing here? Come to get a heads up on my next plan so you can ruin that too?" Riddler asked in his obnoxious voice as per usual. He glared down at Waylon who just folded his arms and sighed.

"Yeah, how about next time you don't involve my girlfriend in your little hostage situation and I won't have to." Waylon grumbled, wondering where Riddler was hiding in this big building and more importantly, what he had planned for his next assault on Gotham. There were dull panels on the floor and a lot of green scrawling on the walls so it looked like he had something _big_ planned for Batman.

"How was I supposed to know she was you girlfriend? Does she have a crocodile tramp stamp or something I should have noticed." Riddler exclaimed, getting flustered like he did when he was annoyed. No doubt he was busy and eager to get back to whatever he was doing.

"How was _I_ supposed to know the bombs I set up for you would threaten _her_." Waylon added, glancing around the room for an indicator to where Riddler was hiding. "I did not, but still, _she_ yelled at me just as I yelled at _you_ for holding her hostage so I guess it's just one of those things." Where was he? Waylon didn't like talking to a projection.

"You could have just left with her and let me continue my game." Riddler suggested, slouching back in his chair. Waylon was just able to make out a table and cork board in the background covered in paper.

"Come on, seriously? She wouldn't let me leave without helping the others."

"So? Couldn't you just pick her up and drag her away?" Riddler suggested. Waylon scoffed at the suggestion. He had never once been forceful for Madeline, and somehow he reckoned that she would be more difficult than the average person.

"Come on man." Waylon laughed, shaking his head at Riddler's ignorance, an odd change of pace. "Do you really think I'm going to piss off my one and only girlfriend? I mean, have you seen me lately?" Waylon said, gesturing to himself. Riddler seemed to be content with that answer and peered down at Waylon from his projected face, looking a little stumped with how to respond. Madeline really _was_ good for Waylon, a few months ago and all he could do was growl and roar, and now he was winning a battle of wits against Riddler. Well, not really, it was more like common sense and Riddler knew nothing about women so perhaps this was only a small win, but still.

"Alright fine. But you owe me." Riddler said begrudgingly, turning to press some buttons or something. "I'm unlocking the door, come through."

The door on the far left of the room clicked and Waylon opened it into another hallway, this one with a podium holding a glass case surrounded by oversized teddy bears that were starting to rot. Seriously? What the hell? This was more of a joker thing than a Riddler thing, what was wrong with him? The door at the other end of the hallway clicked open too so Waylon went through that one as well, leading him out into another large room, this time wide rather than tall, with a strange square of space missing from the floor, replaced by boxes and lined with combine harvester blades. The ceiling was mesh wiring and spikes protruded from both the ceiling and the floor, making it a rather hazardous contraption. Waylon didn't understand why people like Riddler went to so much effort to trap Batman, why not just hide and wait like he did. Although _they_ had come close to catching Batman more times than _he_ had so perhaps they were onto something.

The part of the room that was still normal and above the rest was at right angles with the cut out square and at the end of the stretch there was a book case with various toys and teddies sat on the shelves. Then, there was the sound of a computer or something beeping with submission and the bookshelf moved backwards and then into the side of the wall, revealing a secret room where Riddler was sat at his desk surrounded by schematics and sketches of plans as well as the odd little cartoon of Batman or Catwoman getting electrocuted or eaten by piranhas.

Waylon ducked slightly as he walked through the entryway and stood in the tiny room as Riddler spun to face him in his swivel chair.

"So, what can I do for you?" Riddler asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. Waylon looked around the room, it was a mess with photos pinned up on the wall with red lines drawn between them like an obsessed detective, and even what looked like a robot's head sat on the desk with the wires coming out of its neck trailing past the coffee mug and collection of books. It was kind of claustrophobic, especially for someone as big as Waylon. Riddler was tiny however, so it was no wonder he liked to hide in here.

"I need a job. Do you have any or at least know of any going at the moment?" Waylon asked, peering at a picture of a drowning batman with the caption ' _splish_ ' written under it. Was that even a word?

"Well I might have something that needs doing. It can be your way of making it up to me for screwing with my game." Riddler sneered, turning around on his chair and looking for some documents on his mess of a desk.

"I need fifty grand for it." Waylon said casually, but Riddler almost fell out of his seat with shock.

"Fifty grand? Are you serious? You do know that ' _making it up to me_ ' means you do it for free right?" Riddler asked, talking to Waylon as if he was stupid. Well he was kind of stupid but not _that_ stupid.

"Yes, I know what it means. But I need fifty grand in three... no its two days now isn't it? Yeah, two days. Can I just make it up to you another day or something?"

"Hmm." Riddler grumbled, thinking to himself about what to do. "Alright fine, but why do you need $50,000 in three days. Kind of cutting it fine don't you think?" Waylon scratched the back of his neck while Riddler looked for the documents again.

"Yeah, it was kind of sprung on me last minute." He admitted, kind of annoyed about that.

"Oh, girlfriend I presume?"

"Yeah."

"What does _she_ need $50,000 for?" Riddler asked. It was an honest question and Waylon wasn't sure if to answer truthfully. It wasn't really any of Riddler's business but he didn't want the nerd thinking Madeline was some gold digger or something.

"Things coming back to haunt her that can only go away with money." Waylon said, half lying about it, but once the words were out they sounded worse than the truth, as if Madeline had some sort of sex tape or something out there and she was paying hush money.

"Ah ha, here it is." Riddler announced, ignoring Waylon's explanation, thankfully, and producing a file containing various scraps of paper, one with the word ' _Titan_ ' written on it, whatever that was.

"As you know Joker used Titan in the Asylum to go toe to toe with Batman and consequently got his ass beaten by both Batman and eventually the cancers that titan caused him to develop." Riddler began at supersonic speed. Waylon hadn't really payed much attention to what was going on in Arkham on that day, he'd been more preoccupied with trying to find a way out.

"While Joker is now dead, he still has some vats of Titan hidden away in a warehouse near Sionis Steel Mill." Riddler continued, finally getting to the main point. "I need you to go there and get me a sample, preferable a whole canister if you can."

"Wait," Waylon said, catching up a little. "Titan is the stuff Bane uses right? Why do you need that? Planning on using brawn instead of brains?"

"I would never do something so foolish." Riddler said with his nose in the air, moving over to the other desk where the robot head was sat to pick it up and stare at it with wonder. "I need it to give my new creations a little extra kick. I want to see if it can have an effect on the new biomechanical system I'm developing and give them the edge against Batman."

"Okay, I understood ' _kick_ ' in that sentence." Waylon said, completely lost as to what Riddler was going on about. Biomecha... what?

Riddler gave him that look of superiority and groaned as he rolled back over to his desk once more.

"Just get me the titan." He said slowly and patronisingly in a way that ticked Waylon off, but he couldn't crush the little twerp into a paste until after he got the $50,000. Just as Waylon was about leave Riddler remembered something and called to stop him.

"Oh, you will need to take Madeline with you." Riddler called as if it were a minor detail. Waylon spun around and glared at the scrawny man who was getting a little too cocky for his own good.

"Why?" Waylon asked, a little more aggressively than he'd intended to be.

"Well, Joker has some macabre game set up in order to get to the Titan. A copy cat if you ask me, but it's a puzzle nonetheless and requires brain over brawn so you need to take your little girlfriend with you. And judging by how she was answering my riddles I think she might be smart enough to solve them. Plus since the money is for her she really should contribute."

"I don't want her to be in any danger." Waylon growled, taking Riddler's words as a threat. The guy was unpredictable and very petty when it came to revenge. Madeline had said she wanted to help with whatever they decided to do but he still didn't want her getting involved in it.

"She shouldn't be. It's an old warehouse and most of Joker's gang is gone so you should have no interference."

Waylon wasn't convinced. Gotham had a habit of throwing fuel into the fire and no doubt something would happen to make the situation dangerous. They were going to be dealing with Titan for god's sake, that stuff was dangerous and to make matters worse it had been developed by a doctor at Arkham Asylum of all places. Still, if it had a puzzle he needed Madeline to get past it, he wasn't going to pretend he was smart enough to manage alone.

"Fine. But if anything bad happens." Waylon threatened. Riddler put his hands up in a mock surrender.

"I know I know, you'll kill me or something. Don't worry. If any bad does happen I'll forgive your little interference at the bank free of charge and I'll even throw in an extra couple grand. I'm going to be rolling in it once my plan is complete and I kill the Batman."

Riddler returned to his work and continued to plot and scheme whatever he had planned.

"Yeah, good luck with that." Waylon mumbled as he turned to leave. Focusing too much on killing Batman was unhealthy, it was better just to try and give it a go when you ran into him rather than actively seek out the man who continuously threw you back into Arkham. Hopefully there would be no Batman interference, especially since the caped vigilantly kept showing up at the wrong times and swooping down to pick up Madeline. It was happening a little too frequently for Waylon to be even remotely comfortable with it and if he saw Batman do it again he would seriously rip him to shreds.

Madeline checked out her new outfit in the mirror. She wasn't going to lie, she looked good in leather. Waylon had called her on the cell phone she'd forced him to carry around and told her they were good to go with a job for Riddler that night and that she should meet him near the Sionis Steel Mill. She was extremely happy that he was letting her come along to help and had bought herself a new outfit especially for the occasion. As she checked herself out in the strip club dressing room Paula came rushing in, her face shining like a beacon and a big goofy smile on her face. She looked like a high school girl who had just seen One Direction or something.

"You'll never guess who just came in and is asking to see you." Paula squealed, barely able to contain her excitement. Madeline didn't have the foggiest clue but judging by Paula's behaviour it was someone she found hot.

"I dunno. Batman?" Madeline suggesting, trying to remember all the names of every crush Paula had ever had. There were quite a few of them.

"Even better." Paula giggled, jumping up and down. "Its Bruce Wayne!"

"What?" Madeline exclaimed, almost falling over it was such a shock. What did the billionaire want with _her_?

"I know right. He just came in and asked the manager if he could speak with you. I'm so jealous, I fucking hate you for this." Paula screamed happily, practically forcing Madeline out of the dressing room.

"But why?"

"I don't know. Go find out and see if you can get me involved too. Maybe a private dance at Wayne Manor, who knows." Paula squealed, shoving Madeline out on the floor of the strip club where across the room Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy philanthropist, sat at the bar with a flock of girls around him trying to give him the world's most expensive lap dance. He rejected all of them.

Madeline cautiously walked over and the girls dispersed when she did so. Bruce looked at her and smiled as if she were a guest of honour at one of his charity events and not a lowly stripper.

"Madeline Hopper is it? It's so good to finally meet you." He said, shaking Madeline's hand with more respect than she deserved. Finally meet her? What did he mean? She wasn't special or anything. How did he know she even existed. As far as she was aware this was the first time he'd ever been to the club.

"Yeah. What can I do for you?" Madeline asked, taking a seat next to the million dollar man. She examined him closely. He was very handsome and very muscular considering he lived a life of luxury. He had combed back black hair and a chiselled jaw with a five o'clock shadow. While he had a light and jovial expression his eyes were uncharacteristically stern.

"A dear friend of mine frequents this establishment, Mr Jackson Callaway? An older man with glasses." Bruce explained. Madeline shook her head, that was the vaguest description ever.

"Anyway." Bruce continued. "He said that you were a marvellous performer and quite a beauty to behold. As I can see just looking at you now, he was understating you quite a bit." Madeline couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was Bruce Wayne flirting with her? Why? Did he think she was a prostitute or something. Surely he could get any girl he wanted with ease, why go to her just because one guy said she was hot?

"Okay. So what is it you need?" Madeline asked cautiously. If he suggested he _hire_ her for anything she was going to slap him, even if he was the most powerful man in Gotham.

"I've started a new company, a modelling agency where the proceedings go to a charity to help disadvantaged youths." Bruce explained with a smile. "I would like to offer you a contract."

Madeline didn't know what to say. This was a bolt out of the blue. A modelling contract? What? Why? It would be a great opportunity sure but why her? She was pretty sure but not in an amazing way. Sure, it would be a great opportunity for her, and perhaps she would be able to get her family out of the white trash slump they were in with the money she got from it. It would be considerably more than what she got as a stripper, plus a bit more classy. Her expression must have lead Bruce to believe that she was accepting because he seemed to get really into it.

"Now, it is based in Metropolis, but I can set you up with an apartment until you get settled. You'd be living with a few other models I've contracted so I..."

"Metropolis? Not Gotham?" Madeline asked, a little taken aback by this new information that threw a spanner into the idea.

"Yes well, Metropolis is where a lot of the action is happening and since I aim for the charity to help youths all over the country I need it to be in a high profile area." Bruce explained, every word making Madeline more inclined to say no. She couldn't leave Gotham. What about Waylon. She couldn't just up and ditch him, and long distance wouldn't work since he was a total technophobe.

"I can't move to Metropolis." Madeline said dismally with a heavy sigh. "I just can't." Bruce looked a little disappointed but oddly frustrated too.

"Why? You got a boyfriend or something here?" He asked, hitting the nail on the head in one blow. Madeline knew Waylon wouldn't like the idea of her going but she got the feeling he'd want what was best her, and because of that, she would do what was best for him and stay. Bruce seemed to suggest with his tone that Madeline's ' _boyfriend_ ' was some asshole who wouldn't let her leave. How wrong he was.

"Kind of." She said, not wanting to go into it. "He needs me, and I need him."

"This is a once in a lifetime opportunity." Bruce insisted, getting a little pushy. "You are a beautiful woman, surely you'll find another, better man with ease." Madeline couldn't help but feel offended by that and she decided to quit being polite to the billionaire.

"Spoken like a man who has never been in love." She said, standing up and turning away to walk off. She had to go and meet Waylon for this job so she could get her family out of shit _now_ rather than later.

"I've been in love before." Bruce said, changing his tone just as Madeline was walking away. Madeline stopped and turned to him, puzzled. Was someone like _him_ capable of _true love_? Sensing a need for an explanation Bruce sighed and got to his feet as well.

"I lost her recently, and the pain of losing someone you care about so deeply never really goes away. It haunts you, like a sickness."

"If that's true then you know what it's like to want to do _anything_ for the person you love, even if it costs yourself and others dearly." Madeline explained, feeling a sense of sorrow and mourning come over her, as if she were feeling whatever Bruce was feeling. She hadn't heard anything on the news about Bruce Wayne _having_ a girlfriend, let alone losing one. Maybe it was a secret lover.

"I chose to help the ' _others_ ' over her, and she lost her life because of it." Bruce admitted, and Madeline was unsure whether or not he _regretted_ doing that. He looked up, his whole face stern to match his eyes and all of a sudden he looked like someone else entirely.

"But I had to put my feelings aside to help the majority. I had to be a stronger person and make the right choice, even if it went against my heart."

"I don't understand. It's not like anyone is going to get hurt because of me being with my boyfriend." Madeline stuttered, very confused as to what Batman was getting at. The reality was quite the opposite actually.

"No I suppose not. But sometimes it's better to look at the bigger picture and work out what the best decision is in the long run for both of you. Even if at the time it hurts too much to consider, a year or two down the line things might be better than the alternative."

Madeline was getting a little freaked out by this uncharacteristically dark and gloomy Bruce Wayne. Cocky billion air she could deal with, but this guy?

"Look I have no idea what you're going on about, but I have to say no. I have somewhere to be so..."

"Take my card at least." Bruce said, snapping out of his dark and gloomy persona into his happier one from before. He offered Madeline a white card with the phone number for the modelling agency. Madeline took it and dropped it into her handbag, knowing she'd never use it and quickly left, leaving a very peculiar Bruce Wayne at the bar with all that depressing emotional turmoil he'd just dumped on her.

 **Sneaky sneaky Batman. Just to clarify if you are a little confused as to what he was talking about he was referencing the events in Arkham City with Talia Al Ghoul and how he had to go stop Protocol 10 instead of saving her first. Also if you haven't played Arkham Knight, Pinkney Orphanage is a real location in the game and is the location of Riddler. That secret room is also a real thing and hard to find so go check it out if you haven't seen it already and you need to find it to get 100% completion in the game so yeah. Hope you liked that one, we will see some drama and action heat up in the next chapter or two and some new characters will wonder into the plot as well so keep checking for updates and please leave a review.**


	20. Chapter 19

**The terminal for unlocking the door is like a fallout terminal just FYI**

 **Chapter 19**

Waylon got quite the surprise when Madeline arrived at Sionis Steel Mill clad in skin tight leather pants with snake skin boots and leather jacket. She wore a fishnet choker necklace that made her look very sexy and dangerous, and a pair of earrings that looked like little snakes clutching onto her earlobe with their teeth for dear life. She had even painted her lips green and given herself smoky eyes with a greenish tinge as if she were poison incarnated. She looked hot, but Waylon didn't have a clue as to why she was so dressed up for stealing chemicals.

"So what do you think?" Madeline asked, doing a little twirl to show off. Her ass looked especially good in tight leather.

"Hot." Waylon said, more to himself than Madeline. "But why are you dressed up in the leather and stuff?"

"Well I was watching the news the other day and there was a story about Harley Quinn and it got me thinking." Madeline began, sauntering up to Waylon and throwing her arms around his neck. "She's Joker's... well she _was_ Joker's girlfriend, and as such she dressed up in clown attire to match. You know, the spandex body suit, the red and blue nurses uniform? So I thought since I'm helping _you_ on a job I should suit up to look like the girlfriend of Killer Croc."

"Ah." Waylon realised as he tried to cop a feel of Madeline's ass. "Hence the reptile skin and leather." Before he could grab a handful of the sweet fleshy behind, Madeline pulled away, horror across her face. Oh god, what had he done?

"Is this offensive?" She asked suddenly, clutching at her face as if she had just witnessed the most horrible thing imaginable.

"Is what offensive?" Waylon asked, his hands unsure what to do with themselves now that his target had just moved away.

"The leather and stuff. Is it offensive? Oh my god I didn't think about that, I should go change." Madeline gasped as she turned to leave. Waylon grabbed her arm and dragged her back over to him, holding her tightly in his arms so she couldn't run away again.

"Why would I find what you're wearing offensive?" He asked, trying to figure out the answer himself. She looked sexy in leather, how could _anyone_ find that offensive.

"Well because its reptile skin and leather and stuff. I thought you'd..."

Waylon then realised why she was getting worried and the very idea of him getting offended by such a silly thing made him laugh out loud.

"Babe, you do know I consider myself a human and not a crocodile right?" Waylon explained, raising an eyebrow at Madeline. "Well, more like a meta-human kind of thing but certainly not an _actual_ crocodile."

"So you aren't offended?" Madeline asked one last time, looking very sheepish and so adorable.

"No. I think it's cute that you put in the effort to match up with me and it is very much appreciated. You can be my little leather clad sidekick or assistant or something." Waylon chuckled, planting a kiss on the top of Madeline's head. "You look super sexy by the way."

They crossed the grounds of the steel mill which had been all but left to fall apart. Since Joker had died all his thugs had moved out or gone with Harley, and Harley had left the steel mill for good since Batman knew it was her hideout. The warehouse where the Titan was supposedly located was around the back of the main building of the steel mill with the entrance locked by an electronic door. Waylon tried to knock the door down but it was reinforced and only the computer panel would unlock it. This was where Madeline came into it.

"Okay time to shine lizard girl." Waylon said, giving Madeline a light slap on the ass as she walked past him to the electronic lock. She gave him a playful scowl but turned her attention to the lock.

"Okay, I'm no hacker or anything but I'm good with puzzles so let's see if I can figure this one out." She said, examining the screen and typing in a few letters. Waylon watched over her shoulder. It seemed to be a screen of words and symbols lined up in two rows and randomly dispersed across each line. It all look very confusing, thank god Madeline was here.

"Okay, so I think I gotta guess the password by process of elimination. The computer tells me how similar the word I select is so I should be able to figure it out in a couple tries. Do you follow?"

"I stopped listening." Waylon admitted, everything she just said flying over his head at warp speed.

"Yeah I figured as much." Madeline muttered. "Now let's see. All the words have eight letters and a lot of them end i so I can rule out the ones that don't. Maybe ' _breaking_ '?" Madeline typed in breaking and the computer came up with ' _5/8_ _likeness_ ', whatever that meant. A little bar in the top corner of the screen lost a square in length, a limit of some kind perhaps?

"So ' _breaking_ ' has five letters correct. I can assume those letters would b and maybe E and A? Hmm..." Madeline muttered to herself while Waylon watched. He was still lost in the sea of words and symbols, how Madeline was figuring this out was beyond him.

"What about ' _creating_ '. It's got th and the E and A. Oh but it's got an R too so that's six so that can't be right. ' _Agreeing_ '? No. Maybe ' _brawling_?" Madeline said, selecting the word. The computer came up with ' _3/8 likeness_ ' and Madeline cursed under her breath as the bar went down another block.

"Shit, not that one at all. Hmm, okay, so th was right but no R or A. What else do we have?"

As Madeline examined the list Waylon looked around to see if anyone was watching them. The place was _supposedly_ abandoned but that didn't mean that the odd criminal might be lurking about. No petty thug would mess with him of course, but he couldn't be too careful with Madeline around.

"Hmm. ' _Rustling_ ', ' _steaming_ '? No and no. Err... Oh, ' _cleaning_ ' maybe? It's got th and the E and A. The first two letters are different to the other choices so perhaps..."

Madeline selected ' _cleaning_ ' and the computer beeped with satisfaction as the door unlocked.

"Yes!" Madeline cheered to herself.

"Good job babe." Waylon said, moving Madeline behind him as he went into the warehouse first just in case.

The warehouse was full of useless junk Joker had stored away for what would have been many crazy and deplorable plans to trap or kill Batman. Giant bobble head figures pained to look like Harley, an oversized jack-in-a-box with a Joker like face. There were a couple bits of circus equipment like rings and podiums, as well as a box of clown masks for his thugs. There was a large eye sat on a shelf surrounded by children's toys, and a poorly made batman costume being worn by a mannequin. There was no Titan to be seen anywhere but there was another door that lead down some steps into darkness.

With Madeline behind him, Waylon moved down the stairs which seemed to never end. The rusting rail was harsh to the touch but the stairs themselves didn't seem safe either. The metal creaked as they went down and at one point Waylon was concerned they were going to break all together under his weight, especially since they even creaked when Madeline stepped on them. There was a light at the bottom of the stairs, a single hanging bulb that flickered like a horror movie cliché, followed by more darkness down a long tunnel lined with pipes. This part of the building was not supposed to be connected to the warehouse. Joker must have connected the two when he took control of the steel mill.

"This place gives me the creeps." Madeline said, staying close to Waylon by holding onto his arm.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you." Waylon reassured with a cocky grin. Now he knew why guys usually took their girlfriends to see horror movies, it made them all clingy and depended. He loved how independent Madeline was of course, but this was kind of nice as well. Made him feel less like a monster.

"You going to be my knight in shining armour then?" Madeline giggled with a mischievous grin.

"I think I can manage that." Waylon agreed as they turned a corner in the tunnel. There was a light at the end of this one, more than just a dull bulb too, more like a well lit room.

"You know, I think you're more of a dragon kind of guy. You know. The prince shows up to rescue the damsel in distress only to find out that she's gone and fallen for her dangerous captor." Madeline theorised. Waylon imagined such a scenario. It certainly wasn't hard to imagine himself as a dragon type thing and he mentally put Madeline in the sluttiest princess dress ever, something the woman gripping onto the hero's leg in all those old movie posters would wear.

They reached the end of the tunnel which opened up into a somewhat circular room with grates on the floor, a few empty rusted barrels, a pile of metal scraps and junk, a close rollup door and one Titan container sat against the wall. The container was a stained metal one with a strip of glass down the middle to show the level of toxic green Titan inside which was just under two thirds full. The seams of the container seemed to be leaking but the leaked material had hardened onto the metal and become a dull green stain that stopped any more of it from escaping along with the rusted bolts that held it together. The word ' _Titan_ ' had been sprayed on the side with red spray paint some time ago as well as newer spray painted letters read out ' _ha ha ha_ ' in typical joker green. This was it.

"Whoa, that stuff looks deadly." Madeline said, totally ignoring all caution and going over to the precarious container. Waylon caught up to her and tried to push her behind him again but she wasn't for budging.

"It is deadly." He warned. He'd seen what it had done to Bane over the years, and he'd heard about what it did to Joker back in the Asylum. This stuff screwed you over for life and he certainly didn't want Madeline touching the stuff.

"So how does it work?" Madeline asked, going up to the container and peering inside through the glass.

"I dunno. People take the stuff and go crazy." Waylon explained as best he could, moving Madeline a few steps away from the container since she seemed determined to get as close to the toxic material as possible. "They get super big and muscular, or if they're a meta human then I think their abilities get more powerful. I dunno. Apparently Ivy was given the stuff and got all powered up and shit, and Joker just got even crazier with it."

"Yeah I saw that on the news. That was scary. He was all jacked up and covered in blistering sores and stuff. His spine was sticking out of his back too. The stuff of nightmares." Madeline said with a shiver. Waylon had seen the pictures too, it really was the stuff of nightmares.

"So, are we supposed to carry this thing out of here? Take a sample or something?" Madeline asked, and Waylon tried to remember his plan for this. Riddler had given him a weird syringe thing attached to a bottle to get a sample, but he had wanted as much of it as possible so perhaps they were going to have to just carry the whole container out. If he broke the container and the stuff went everywhere having a sample in a separate bottle would be useful.

Waylon pulled out the syringe thing out of his pocket, removed the safety cap on the end and gave it to Madeline. _She_ would have to do this since his hands were too big to use the tiny device. As dangerous as the Titan was there was no other way so Madeline would have to get dangerously close to the stuff. As far as Waylon was aware the Titan needed to be injected or consumed in order for it to have an effect so they should be alright.

"I'll take the lid off, you get a sample. Okay?" Waylon said, going over to the container and getting a firm grip around the top lid.

"Alright. The fumes aren't going to turn me into a hulked out freak are they?" Madeline asked cautiously as she dragged a box over to the container for her to stand on.

"Shouldn't do. Just don't get any on your skin, but if you do, make sure you wash it off." Waylon said. He wasn't one hundred percent sure how it worked with Titan absorbing into your skin, he wasn't smart like that but if Madeline kept clear of it then she should be okay.

Waylon levered the lid off the container and Madeline leant over to take the sample, holding the syringe as far away as possible while keeping the tip submerged.

"I wonder what would happen to _you_ if you got given this stuff?" Madeline asked casually as the Titan was slowly pulled into the syringe. Waylon wasn't quite sure what happen if he got hit with the stuff. If it made a normal guy like Bane hulk out but made someone like Ivy get more powerful, perhaps he'd be somewhere in the middle. He wasn't entirely human but he wasn't exactly on a par with Ivy. Knowing his luck it would probably just screw with his mind and make him go crazy like everything seemed to do.

"So tell me about this ex boyfriend of yours." Waylon asked as they waited for the bottle to fill. He was curious about the kinds of guys Madeline used to date and how far into a relationship she got with them. He was totally fresh at this of course but perhaps Madeline had more experience. If she did then she likely had expectations that Waylon needed to meet, and if that was true then he needed to know what those expectations were. A drug dealing biker didn't sound hard to top, but then again he was a giant crocodile man thing.

"Not much to tell." Madeline said warily, as if she thought Waylon was trying to trick her with his question. "He was a bit of an asshole really, always talking about how he was going to rise to the top of the gang and rule the whole town."

"Don't like men with ambition?" Waylon asked, remembering his failed attempt to become a criminal gang lord back when he'd first moved to Gotham.

"I love men with ambition." Madeline corrected. "I just don't like it when they _talk_ about what they want to do, but never actually succeed in it." Madeline grinned at Waylon, the kind of smile you had when nostalgia hit. She looked up at the ceiling and shook her head.

"Remember what I said six years ago?" She asked, the nostalgia grin appearing on Waylon's face as well.

"Something about you being worried about my wellbeing and coming to see if I was okay after the show." Waylon suggested, letting his mind take him back to that hot summer day where a beautiful young girl had shown him kindness. If only he'd known what she would one day be to him, perhaps then he could have stuck around and stayed relatively normal looking instead of becoming more of a freak over time.

"Not that bit. The stuff about trying to become something else other than the path the world as assigned for you." She corrected with a giggle. "I'm kind of a hypocrite in that respect. I've followed the path to the letter."

"Well not exactly. You became a stripper for the ' _big fish_ ', just like you wanted to." Waylon said, trying to remember the conversation but all his mind wanted to show him was the possible naked body of a sixteen year old Madeline that was probably kind of creepy to be thinking about.

"Yeah but I never really tried to deviate off the path too much. I like, walked on the edge of the path and made stepped on the grass a little but I never really went in another direction."

There was silence between them as Madeline finished off syringing the Titan and removed a now _full_ bottle from the container so Waylon could force the lid back on. She was silent and hesitant, but Waylon didn't exactly know why. He was about to ask but Madeline spoke first.

"I've been offered a job." Madeline said quickly, the words sounding hard for her to say. Waylon was confused. Why was this a bad thing?

"That's great." He said supportively. "Doing what?"

"Modelling for a charity organisation..." Madeline explained. The idea sounded great, the only downside would be Madeline's perfect body appearing in magazines for _other_ men to look at, even if it was fully clothed.

"...in metropolis." Madeline finished, and then Waylon realised what the problem was.

He knew if Madeline went to metropolis he couldn't follow, moving sewer systems was harder than it sounded and he kind of didn't know how to survive outside of Gotham. Plus, there were other criminals in metropolis that owned the sewers, he'd have a big fight on his hand if he wanted to take over. But he couldn't keep Madeline trapped in Gotham on his account. That was unfair and cruel, but still, he _wanted_ to be selfish about it. It was one of those annoying life decisions where you had to decided whether or not to put your needs before the other persons, or vice versa. He had never been very good about considering _other_ people before but with Madeline he would seriously have to try, for her sake. She was such an amazing and wonderful person. Didn't she deserve to be happy? Even if it was without him?

Before Waylon could open his mouth to speak there was the sound of loud and heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. He immediately shoved all thought of Madeline leaving Gotham to the back of his head and growled as military boots thumped into view, followed by orange Arkham inmate pants, and an electronic belt with a red light in the centre. Appearing alongside the new arrival were several armed men in military gear all wearing Mexican wrester masks. They flooded in and formed a perimeter around the room as their boss emerged in the dull light.

"Thanks for getting the door unlocked, much appreciated." The intruder said in a deep Spanish accent. "However, your services are no longer required." Waylon growled moved Madeline behind him, stepping forward and preparing for a fight.

"Bane."

 **Sorry this took a while to upload I've been dealing with shit and stuff but I hope you can tolerate this garbage chapter and I promise next chapter will have some bad ass fighting and emotional shit and all that stuff we love.**


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

"So," Bane began as he walked forward, his hulking frame blocking the light. "What could a _estúpido reptil_ like _you_ want with _my_ Titan?" Waylon growled low and felt Madeline close behind him, holding on the ridges along his back for safety. Bane was about the same height as Waylon, only he stood up straight while Waylon was somewhat hunched over. Bane was broader too, the sheer size of his Titan pumped torso and biceps bulking him out to inhuman proportions, whereas Waylon was muscular all over. The electronic Titan pack strapped to Bane's back continuously supplied him with the toxic green substance that made him for formidable, yet, he had somehow retained a fraction of his superior intelligence. The guy was muscles and brain, a combination Waylon wasn't entirely comfortable going up against.

"Do you plan on using it for yourself? Someone of your intellect would have their brains mangled by a single drop so I wouldn't recommend it." Bane suggested, folding his arms over his enormous chest. Waylon didn't respond to that and growled again, but when noticed Bane's eyes switch from looking at _him_ to glancing behind him, he felt his body go cold with dread.

"Ahh, so my sources were right." Bane said with a malicious grin of triumph. "The big bad crocodile has a _pequeño novia_. _Felicitaciones_!" Waylon didn't understand half of what Bane had just said, only that he had noticed Madeline and maybe congratulated him on it, so instead of formulating a verbal response he continued to growl.

Bane rolled his eyes and groaned with frustration.

"Fine, if you won't talk, maybe _she_ will." Bane said signalling for one of his men to aim the gun on Madeline. Waylon was quick to step in the way of the line of fire and snap in the thug's direction. The thugs were momentarily startled but one on the other side of the room held his up too so Madeline was within shot of at least one of them.

"Would you kindly step out _señorita_?" Bane asked politely. "I would very much like an explanation for all of this." Waylon felt Madeline move out from behind him and tried to stop her but she managed to avoid his grip like a snake and stepped out in front. What was she doing? This was Bane they were dealing with. He was so jacked up on Titan or Venom or god knows what else that he was unpredictable, and that made him even more dangerous. Still, there was no controlling Madeline and all he could do was be ready to leap into action and save her from gunfire or Bane if need be.

"Ah, _hermosa_. Pleasure to meet you _señorita_. May I ask your name?" Bane said, being as charming as physically possible for someone of his personality and profession. Then again, if Waylon could be charming on occasion then why not Bane too.

" _Gracias_." Madeline answered, somewhat nervously but not as much as Waylon expected her to be. " _Me ilamo_ Madeline." Waylon was a little confused, so much so that he actually managed to formulate words.

"You speak Mexican?" He asked quietly, but not quite enough for Bane to miss. Upon hearing his words Bane became very pissed off all of a sudden but Waylon didn't know exactly why.

"Spanish." Madeline corrected, the reason for Bane's expression became clear. "And yeah, I lived near the border remember? I picked up a bit from the ones who got through."

Madeline turned back to face Bane and Waylon felt a little bad for not knowing that bit of information about Madeline. Come to think of it, there was a lot about Madeline he didn't know. Her favourite colour, her middle name, her childhood pet?

"Would you kindly explain for me, Madeline, why you need _my_ Titan?" Bane asked, still too charming to be comfortable with.

"I thought it was Joker's Titan?" Madeline corrected, completely unfazed and confident despite talking to a hulking mass of muscle and testosterone.

"Joker is _muerto_." Bane clarified.

"So it's up for grabs then." Madeline responded quickly. "And we happened to be here first so..."

"So..." Bane continued. "What do you need it for?"

"Not really any of your business is it?"

Bane chuckled and grinned, running his tongue over his teeth in an uncomfortably sexual way that seemed make Madeline shiver. Okay, that was not allowed.

"You got some mouth on you girl. Nobody ever teach you manners. You should respect me." Bane sneered, losing the charm and replacing it with Latin American intimidation. He stepped forward but Madeline didn't budge. She was holding her ground, and as much as Waylon wanted to shove her behind him and rip Bane's face off he didn't, and allowed her to stand as the bad ass chick he loved for a little bit longer. But if Bane tried anything, Waylon's reflexes would intervene.

Bane glared at Madeline with that same ugly grin on his face. He shook his head briefly, as if in disappointment or disbelief. He moved closer, leaning down until he was face to face with Madeline.

" _Puta_." He spat, and Madeline's face instantly twisted into a horrified and infuriated expression Waylon was glad he had never seen before. Jesus Christ she looked like she was going to murder someone. She didn't murder anyone, instead she practically committed suicide by punching Bane in the face with all her might.

Before Madeline could even complain about her now injured hand from punching walking muscle in the face Waylon shoved her behind him and growled. Okay, it was dumb of Madeline to punch Bane in the face, but god damn was it hot. He could hear Madeline gasping about her hand behind him, but she was also cursing because she knew she'd just gone and waved a red cape in front of a bull. Oddly enough though, Bane didn't get angry or attack them. Instead, after a moment, he laughed loud and heartily, his deep voice booming all around them. It was a bit unexpected, but ten times more worrying. Was he going to suddenly snap?

"I like this _niña_. She's feisty like _Caipora_." Bane said, cracking his neck from side to side and taking a step forwards. He rolled his shoulders forwards and stretched his arms, ready for a fight. He wiped the blood from his nose and Waylon was actually quite amazed and proud that Madeline had managed to make the hulking freak bleed, even if it meant he now had to fight said freak. It wouldn't be the first time he'd fought Bane. The last time he'd gotten into a fight with the big guy was a few months after he moved to Gotham, when he was more human looking. He'd been having a bad day... A really bad day and gone a little crazy in a Gotham shopping centre, tearing up the place for no real apparent reason that he couldn't remember. All he knew was that he was angry.

Then, after Batman and Robin had shown up to beat him into submission, out of nowhere came this strange man dressed in black with a Mexican wrestle mask. He was no wear near as bulky as he was now since he was using Venom instead of Titan. He jacked up right then and there but Waylon had been too angry to pay any attention and just gone in to punch the weirdo in the face. To his surprise, the human looking weirdo grabbed his arm, yanked it down and back, breaking it with ease. Then when Waylon had stupidly gone in to try again, Bane had broken the other arm, following it up with a remark about Waylon being ' _too ugly to hit_ ' before kicking him through a window. He'd woken up in Blackgate, but promptly escaped soon after and retreated into the sewers. As all his broken bones and gashes did, they grew back stronger and more mutated. He spent what felt like years but was probably only a few months living in the sewers, eating rats and hunting workmen who came down to do repairs. He hadn't quite been in his right frame of mind during that time so the details were a little fuzzy, the only thing he remembered was that a guy in a Mexican wrestler mask had hurt him and he wanted revenge.

One day however, he got the scent on Bane in the sewers and went to find him. Instead he found Robin wearing a blindfold and tied up trying to fight someone who wasn't even there. Resisting the urge to kill the annoying little vigilante in training he instead did the smart thing and pressed for information. Before Robin could give an answer however, Bane attacked from behind and thumped Waylon hard in the back of the head. It didn't knock him out though, he'd become too strong for that, and perhaps a little smarter too since he made the quick and cleaver decision to destroy the device Bane used to inject himself with Venom, evening the odds. If he remembered correctly he'd said something quite witty and cool but damn if he remembered what it was. He did remember however, Bane breaking his arm again and them falling into the fast flowing water below. He didn't remember much about the rest of the fight, but he did know he'd lost that one too since he woke up with broken limbs somewhere in the sewers once more. He was yet to beat Bane in a fight. Perhaps today would be that day. He sure hoped so since Madeline's life was on the line as well.

"Last chance _amigo_. Leave now and I won't break every bone in your body." Bane warned, snapping Waylon out of his trip down memory lane. Waylon growled and stood his ground but he felt Madeline tug on his arm.

"I'm sorry, let's just go." Madeline pleaded, her knuckles turned purple from the punch.

"What did he call you?" Waylon asked, keeping his eyes on Bane. "What's a ' _Puta_ '?"

"It doesn't matter." Madeline hissed, trying to make him leave. She was worried about him, that was sweet, but this conflict was a long time coming and would have happened without her punching Bane in the face. He knew Madeline thought she was going to be responsible for any injury Waylon received from fighting Bane, not that he planned on getting any. But he had to do this, he wanted revenge. Besides, Madeline needed the money to help her family and they weren't going to have another opportunity to get $50,000 before tomorrow.

"What did he call you?" Waylon asked again, his tone almost threatening. He didn't want to be threatening towards Madeline but he needed to know whatever it was Bane called her so he could use it to get angry and therefore, be more formidable. Bane was stronger now, so he had to be stronger as well. The only way to achieve that was to lose control just a little bit. As much as he hated losing control, it was the only way this was going to work. Damn Riddler, he'd said there would be no trouble. Madeline was reluctant to respond but she did finally oblige.

"' _Puta'_ is Spanish for ' _whore'_." Madeline admitted sheepishly, and like Waylon expected it to, his blood boiled with rage and his pupils became slits. Bane looked to be excited about this increase in ferocity and chuckled as cracked his knuckles.

"A rematch then. Perhaps the third time will be the charm." Bane coaxed as he signalled for his men to lower their guns and take a step back. This was going to be one on one. Good. Waylon didn't have the time or the patience for bullets.

He growled loud and deep as he crouched low, putting his hands on the floor for more momentum when he charged. Bane pressed the button his belt for the Titan to pump into his veins and flexed as his blood turned green with the stuff.

"Once I'm through with you I'll deal with your little _puta_ over there." Bane threatened, pointing at Madeline who was retreating as far into the corner as she could go. "Maybe I'll take her home with me, show her what a real man's _pene_ feels like with a long night of _largo, duro y apasionado coito_." Waylon had no clue what that meant but judging by Madeline's look of horror and repulsion it was something bad so without further adieu he charged forward, snapping his jaws with the intention of ripping Bane to pieces once and for all.

Madeline was backed up into a corner and had no clue what she was going to do. The exit was blocked off by Bane's men and she couldn't leave without Waylon who was in the middle of fighting said giant muscular asshole. Bane had started off so charming too, then he'd gone and called her a whore so she'd punched him, which was a stupid thing to do, and now Waylon was potentially going to get his limbs broken, or even get killed. She wanted to stay as far away from the thugs as possible due to her history with grabby henchmen, and backed up against the Titan container.

Waylon charged for Bane again and again, getting thrown off only to attack once more. He was snapping viciously at Bane, trying to get a chunk of flesh in his jaws and he slashed with each strike. Bane could only defend against the onslaught as Waylon attacked again and again, not giving Bane a chance to attack first. It was clear that the fight was not shaping up to be as easy as Bane had anticipated but that didn't mean it was any easier for Waylon. Bane landed a few punches here and there, knocking a tooth out at one point. But Waylon just kept taking them and charged again and again. He did however, seem to make an effort to get his arms free whenever Bane tried to get a hold of them, ripping them from his grasp and backing off to charge in again.

The clash of the two hulking creatures was the stuff you might find in Greek legend. Each punch, snap, roar of anger and thump as one hit the ground was loud and terrifying. Their hands locked and they pushed against one another, trying to force the other down. Bane was physically bigger but Waylon was pushing with all his might and not going down. While most of Bane's strength was in his upper body and arms, Waylon had much stronger legs and was more well rounded with muscle. They were evenly matched, both formidable opponents, but with their hands locked Waylon had a bit of an advantage and pressed his claws into the back of Bane's hands.

Bane roared and began to push Waylon down, buckling him onto one knee. But before he could make another move, Waylon was quick to let go of Bane's hands and swing his legs around, knocking Bane off his feet and pouncing on top of him. With a growl and a loud _snap_ , Waylon gripped a chunk of flesh in his jaws, crushing Bane's shoulder with all the force he could muster. Bane let out a yell and ripped Waylon from him, teeth dragging across his muscle as he threw the crocodile across the room and into the wall. Madeline gasped as the loud thud of Waylon hitting the wall was followed by a crack. Thankfully, it was the cracking of the wall and not Waylon's back.

Waylon was quick to charge again, resuming his onslaught of snapping and slashing while Madeline tried to figure out what she could do. She felt inside her jacket and her hand rested on the small gun she had smuggled in with her. She hadn't intended on using it and they'd originally thought this plan would go off without interruption but she'd brought it just in case. She couldn't exactly use it thought, not with Waylon fighting Bane at least, and she wasn't a good shot either.

The sound of bone cracking made her ears bleed and she spun around to see Waylon's arm snap as Bane twisted it backwards. Waylon roared swung at Bane, slashing across his face and tearing the Mexican wrestle mask. Bane let go of Waylon's arm and grabbed him by the neck instead, lifting him into the air before slamming him down head first into the ground. Madeline tensed up and couldn't bring herself to breath. This was brutal, nothing like she'd ever seen before. Waylon was still conscious and tried to get up but Bane lifted him off the ground, held him in the air and threw him with all his might into the wall.

When Waylon hit the floor he grunted and tried to stand but couldn't get up. Bane, who had decided the fight was over, turned his attention to Madeline. Madeline reached for her gun and aimed it at the approaching monster. She gritted her teeth. How dare he do that to Waylon. He had to pay for that. But as much as she wanted to open fire on Bane she couldn't bring herself to pull the trigger. Her hands started to shake and the gun did too, rattling in her hand as Bane laughed.

"Hand over the Titan little girl." Bane ordered, getting closer. Madeline didn't know what to do. She couldn't let him have the Titan, not after all of this, but it wasn't like she could stop him taking it, unless...

Madeline quickly shoved against the container with all her strength and it began to fall, hitting the ground and dislodging the lid, the contents flooding out and down the drain.

"NO!" Bane screamed, but it was too late, the last of the Titan disappeared down into the gutter, now the only remaining bit of it was the syringe and bottle in Madeline's hand. Bane fixed his eyes on it and glared at Madeline with eyes burning like hellfire.

"Give it to me!" He ordered, stalking forward. Before he could get to Madeline however, he was yanked back and thrown across the room. Waylon was up on his feet but his arm was still broken. He glanced back at Madeline and she gave him a relived smile. Waylon gritted his teeth and growled as he swung his broken arm from side to side before throwing it out and snapping it back into place. He grunted and then shook of the pain before charging towards Bane, who was getting onto his feet, and slammed him against the wall. He grabbed Bane by the head and shoved his face into the ground, breaking Bane's nose.

Madeline looked around for some way to help. Bane's men had moved to help their boss so no one had eyes on her, now was her chance. She glanced down at the grates just wide enough to fit a person inside, stretching across the whole floor. An idea came to her and while she was sure no one was looking she snuck inside.

It was cramped and loud under the grates, all the noises above reverberating off the walls and pestering her ears. She could hear every footstep and every loud slam against the ground. She quickly crawled on her hands and knees, regretting the leather pants for their lack of flexibility. She followed the grates and took a right turn that lead her through a covered part of the system that was uncomfortably hot. The sound of either Bane or Waylon getting their faced smashed against the ground could be heard above her head and she squeaked when the loud sound echoed around her. She felt like she was going to get crushed by one of them.

Undeterred from helping, she scurried onwards and took another right which brought her out to the middle of the room where Bane and Waylon were in another wrestle. They're hands were locked and Bane was pushing Waylon down once more, only this time he was in a better stance and prepared for Waylon's little trick. Waylon pushed back as best he could but he wasn't as strong as Bane, and he couldn't get free to try and fight _his_ way. Madeline crawled directly under them and glanced up. She couldn't help but admire the sight of two muscular guys fighting, even if it was to the death. And oddly enough Waylon had really cute ass from this angle.

Putting her female fantasies aside Madeline produced the gun and aimed it at Bane. She had to get him somewhere vital, somewhere that would make him loose all strength and give Waylon a chance to finish him off. Madeline silently prayed Waylon wasn't going to rip Bane's head off, she didn't want blood on her new clothes. She tried to aim at Bane's head but it was too smaller target and moved too much. His muscles looked strong enough to bounce a bullet off of so his heart was a no go, and besides, his arm was blocking the shot.

"You will lose this fight and I shall break your back in two." Bane spat, pushing Waylon down onto his knee. "And I shall make you watch as I crush your precious little _novia_!" Waylon growled, a more savage growl than Madeline was used to hearing. He was getting angrier, which would help his cause a little, but it also made him dumber and Bane seemed like he had some brains stored away in that tiny head of his. Waylon needed help _now_.

Madeline aimed the gun and looked for a place to shoot, then as she lowered her sights she had a devious and evil idea and aimed the gun as best she could in Bane's direction. She waited for her chance, holding the gun steady on her target and praying she didn't miss. Once she fired there was no second chance. They were both steady in position. It was now or never.

Madeline pulled the trigger and while she did not hit her mark, she did hit something and it made Bane flinch. That was all Waylon needed and he pushed back against Bane, knocking him to the ground, leaping on top of him and punching his face repeatedly with scaly fists that cut as well as bruised. Bane shoved Waylon back and staggered to his feet, bleeding profusely from his leg. Madeline had nicked an artery and the bleeding wouldn't stop. She crawled out of the grate and hurried over to Waylon who was ready to attack again, but Bane's men had formed a circle around their boss.

"You're going to bleed out boss. We have to get you to a medic." One of the men said, and as much as Bane looked like he wanted to throttle them for stopping the fight, he agreed.

"I will kill you next time crocodile!" Bane threatened as he hurried away, using his mask to try and stop the bleeding. Waylon looked like he wanted to go after them but he stayed put next to Madeline, and then Madeline saw why. He was covered in dark purple bruises that looked worse in comparison to his green skin. His eyes were normal again but he looked exhausted, and once Bane was out of the room for a good few seconds Waylon fell to his hands and knees and panted like a dog that had just been chasing a car for miles.

"Oh my god. Babe are you okay?" Madeline asked, looking around for something that would help. There was nothing there of course but still she looked.

"Na, I'm fine." Waylon panted, breathing between words. "Just need a second." He shook his head as if to try and fix his vision. All the blows to the head had probably given him a concussion or something. Madeline didn't know if his brain healed as fast as his body did, or if it healed with the same side effect.

"That was a great shot. Didn't know you had a gun." Waylon said, getting to his feet despite Madeline's attempts to keep him down.

"It was a shit shot." Madeline admitted. "I wasn't aiming for his artery."

"Then what were you aiming for?" Waylon asked, rubbing his eyes. Yep, he had a concussion.

"His balls." Madeline said plainly, and Waylon laughed. The laugher must have hurt however, because then he cringed and groaned, clutching his head some more.

"Not surprised you missed." Waylon said as he hissed in a breath of air. "It's a small target." Madeline giggled and Waylon gave her as best a smile as he could manage considering his pain scale.

"I guess someone who has _that_ size muscles must be seriously compensating for something."

Waylon lumbered over to the empty container of Titan and grumbled to himself.

"Well there goes fifty grand." He said dismally, kicking the container to the side.

"You said Riddler needed a _sample_ at the very least." Madeline reminded, waving the syringe and bottle in the air. "We still have that."

"Oh, I forgot about that." Waylon grumbled, staggering a little. He shook his head but it was clear it wasn't helping.

"Maybe you should sit down for a bit." Madeline suggested, looking for someone remotely comfortable for him to sit on, but again, no such look.

"Not here." Waylon complained, staggering to the stairs. "We'll go take this stuff to Riddler first, then I can pass out."

 **Hope that was an acceptable fight scene. Try reading it in a sultry voice and it becomes a really weird yaoi but anyway... They have the Titan, pissed off Bane and don't forget about that Modelling contract. Tune in next time for an update and please leave a comment**


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

They arrived at the Pinkney Orphanage just after two in the morning, but all the lights were on in the abandoned building. True to his word Waylon managed to make it all the way to the orphanage, inside and through to Riddler's office behind a bookcase before passing out on a lonely couch in the hall. The couch's old wooden legs broke under his weight but he was already deep in dream land and didn't notice. Madeline giggled and Riddler just looked annoyed.

"Here." Madeline said, still grinning. She handed the syringe and bottle over to the scrawny Riddle master himself who was a lot less intimating in person but ten times more annoying than he had been over loud speaker.

"Where's the rest of it?" He grumbled, frowning at the sample.

"Bane showed up. Had to toss the rest of it so he couldn't get his hands on it. Hence why..." Madeline gestured over to Waylon and Riddler shook his head.

"Couldn't fight for it?" He asked obnoxiously. Madeline put her hands on her lips and scowled at him.

"He _did_ fight for it, and just about won. Bane doesn't go down easy you know." Madeline protested, quite insulted by Riddler's tone. This guy just sat on his ass and dictated everyone about, he didn't _do_ anything.

"True." He admitted begrudgingly. " _You try to avoid me but find me again and again as you try and try, what am I?_ "

"Failure." Madeline sighed. This guy was too scrawny to be so cocky.

Riddler rolled over to his desk on the swizzle chair and examined the Titan while Madeline looked around at all the plans and sketches on the walls.

"You're quite smart." Riddler said, sounding almost impressed. "You got through that puzzle on the door."

"I'm good at puzzles, that's all." Madeline admitted. She didn't like the idea of people thinking she was in anyway intelligent, too much would be expected of her and then she couldn't surprise them.

"No, you _are_ intelligent." Riddler protested, putting the Titan down and examining Madeline instead. "I can tell. But what confuses me is _why_ and intelligent person would date _that_!" Riddler pointed at the passed out Waylon who was drooling a little in his sleep, not the most attractive sight but Madeline smiled and chuckled to herself.

"You wouldn't understand." Madeline said with a smile. "So can I have the money?"

Riddler groaned but rolled over to his other desk and produced a steel case. He flipped the locks to open it and $50,000 worth of hundred dollar bills sat comfortably in neat rows inside. Madeline's face lit up, she'd never seen so much money in one place before. It was a shame they had to give it all away. As Riddler closed the case and handed it to her, he noticed Madeline's bruised knuckles.

"Let me sort that out for you." He said, and before Madeline had a chance to respond, Riddler had already produced a first aid kit from one of his desk draws.

"Its fine." Madeline explained but Riddler moved a chair over for her to sit on while he attended to her injury.

"It'll only take a minute." He insisted, and considering Madeline didn't know anyone else who would fix up her injuries for free she decided to take the help.

"How'd you manage to hurt your hand?" Riddler asked as he cleaned the cuts with antiseptic. It stung a little, but Madeline tried not to flinch.

"I may have punched Bane in the face." Madeline admitted quietly, and Riddler almost fell of his chair.

"Seriously? Wow, that's something alright." Riddler admitted, shaking his head in disbelief. "I take back what I said about you being smart though."

"He called me a whore, what was I supposed to do." Madeline exclaimed. "Besides, he was being too pervy, needed some sense knocking into him." Riddler laughed and smiled as he started to bandage Madeline's hand up.

"Well it's not surprising he was being pervy. Super criminals like him never get a chance to get close and personal with a beautiful woman, none of us do." Riddler explained as he pinned the bandage in place. Madeline flexed her hand, it didn't hurt so much now.

"Yeah I think I'm a magnet for super criminals. I must have a sticker on back that says ' _likes dangerous men_ '. First Waylon, then Joker wanted a lap dance, all of Penguin's thugs wanted a go, now Bane can be added to the list. Oh, and Batman too, he keeps showing up at my apartment just a little too soon after I've been in the shower for my liking."

"Wait." Riddler said, trying to backtrack a little. "Batman? He shows up at your apartment?" Riddler's expression changed to a more manic looking one, his eyes wide with shock but also evil intention.

"Don't even think about trying to corner him there. I don't want to get caught up in your little schemes again." Madeline warned, getting up and walking over to the bored where Riddler had drawn a funny little picture of Batman drowning.

"Oh yeah, sorry about that." Riddler said, a throw away apology. "But why does Batman keep coming to you?"

"I dunno." Madeline muttered, lifting a piece of paper to see a drawing of Catwoman with larger breasts that anatomically possible. "He just keeps showing up and tells me to leave Waylon. It's the same thing every time. ' _You have to leave him_ ', ' _he's dangerous_ ', ' _he'll kill you_ '."

"He's not wrong you know." Riddler said, his words making Madeline spin around and glare at him. "As much as I hate Batman, and I really do hate him, he has a point. Waylon is dangerous and unpredictable. I work with him but I generally try not to be in the same room as him for extended periods of time. He just ' _loses it_ ' on occasion."

"Don't you think I know that." Madeline protested. "Jesus Christ! You and Batman must think I'm an idiot the way you talk to me. I've been around him when he's lost it and I've had my arm gashed by his claws before. I'm fully aware of what I'm getting myself into."

"Then why do you stay?" Riddler asked, genuinely interested. No doubt he had trouble keeping a girl, and here Waylon, a giant crocodile monster, was with a girl who knew the dangers yet chose to stay.

"I don't know. I guess it's just what you do when you love someone." Madeline admitted, looking over at Waylon who was somewhat waking up. She turned back to Riddler and raised an eyebrow.

"You're nosy, but at least you're not trying to give me morning after pills." She grumbled, more to herself than anything, but Riddler's eyes grew wide with shock. Madeline raised her finger to her lips and ' _shushed_ ' quietly.

"Not a word." She whispered, and then went over to Waylon who was trying to sit up.

"Hey babe, you feeling okay?" She asked, sitting on the arm of the couch and holding Waylon's head steady so she could look into his eyes. His pupils looked okay, normal at least. She didn't know what she was supposed to be looking for though, something to do with dilation?

"Yeah, I'm fine." Waylon grumbled, blinking hard to try and fix his vision. "Just give me a sec." He got up and staggered across the hall to where Riddler had some weird contraption with boxes and combine harvester blades. He put his hand on the wooden beam in the corner to steady himself, and then lurched as he puked up an obscene amount of vomit. Madeline shivered, this was defiantly more unattractive than him drooling.

"What the hell!" Riddler exclaimed, coming out of his little office. "You're getting crocodile vomit on my trap!"

"You'll manage." Waylon muttered, standing up straight and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Riddler didn't look happy, but there wasn't much he could do to make either of them clean it up.

Madeline felt her phone vibrate in her jacket pocked and took it out to look at the screen. It was an unknown number, but she knew it had to belong to Caleb. She clicked the answer button.

"Hello?"

"Good morning Madeline." Caleb said in his putrid voice. "Surprised you're still awake. Shouldn't you be with a client right about now?'

"I'm a stripper not a whore." Madeline grumbled, why did everyone have to call her a whore today? "Are you in Gotham?"

"Indeed I am. Do you have the money?"

"Of course I do. Tell me where and when." Madeline ordered. Waylon looked over at her with an expression that made him look like he was about to kill someone. Madeline held up her hand to stop him from attacking the phone, but he did stalk over.

"West side docks." Caleb snapped. "Come alone."

"Oh no, I'm not coming alone. Can I bring my boyfriend with me?" Madeline asked, laughing at Caleb's attempt to sound tough. He thought it over for a second before responding.

"Sure, why not." He agreed, having no idea what he just signed up for. "Let him see the legend he'll never live up to."

"Alrighty then. See you in an hour." Madeline said cheerfully, as if talking to her BFF and not a psycho ex-boyfriend. She clicked the 'end call' button and looked at Waylon.

"They're going to be at the docks in about an hour. Close to home too so we won't have far to go afterwards." She explained. Waylon gritted his teeth and growled but a smile crept its way across his face.

"Is your ex going to be there?" He asked, cracking his neck from side to side.

"Yes he is, but you can't kill him." Madeline ordered, and Waylon face turned to something resembling an upset puppy.

"Why not?" He whined with a pout.

"Because, they'll hurt my family if you do. Besides, I've got something better planned."

Madeline arrived at the docks before Caleb and his biker brothers rocked up on their Harley Davidson motorbikes, all three of them clad in denim. Caleb sauntered up to Madeline, his pistol on show as he walked with too much swagger for a white boy. He was still tall and scrawny looking, his scraggly blond hair longer than the last time Madeline had seen him, and his face a little more cut up from all the fights he no doubt lost. He had a cocky grin on his face, the kind of grin he always had. Madeline couldn't believe she'd once found that grin attractive, now it just looked disgusting.

"Well well well missy." Caleb said, sounding more like a country hick than a thug. "Nice to see you again, especially in those leather pants." Madeline rolled her eyes and held out the metal case.

"Your money." She said flatly. One of the other bikers walked up, a middle aged man with a shaven head but thankfully he had no swastika or white power tattoos. He flipped open the case and nodded with satisfaction.

"Yep, it's all here." The biker said, sounding surprised yet pleased. He gave Madeline a nod of approval and went back to his bike. Not all the bikers were bad, just a few of them, and Caleb of course.

"Huh?" Caleb said, sounding disappointed. "How'd you get that money so fast?"

"Do you even care?" Madeline sighed. "You got the money, now let my family off the hook and get the fuck out of my sight."

Caleb laughed and that grin spread across his face again. He shook his head.

"God I love that mouth of yours." He said with his tongue in his cheek. "Though I think I liked it a lot better when it was wrapped around my dick."

"Urgh. Don't be so vulgar." Madeline spat. "I'm trying to forget that I was ever with you."

"Aw, you're breaking my heart darlin'. You can't possibly tell me you don't think about me from time to time." Caleb suggested, moving in close and going to touch Madeline's face. Madeline slapped his hand away and grinned with a ' _I'll-cut-your-balls-off-if-you-touch-me_ ', smile.

"Admittedly yes, I do think about you from time to time and all that we shared together." She jeered. "But that's on a very rare occasion and usually when I'm so fucking drunk that I need something to help me puke it up."

Caleb's cocky expression turned sour and he attempted to seem intimating as he towered over Madeline. Madeline just scoffed at his attempts to be a tough guy. He was too short and two skinny compared to what she was used to.

"Don't be stupid Caleb" One of the other bikers warned. "The boss said to get the money and go. Madeline and her family are one of our own and he's already pissed enough with you for getting them into this shit." Madeline looked at Caleb and anger creped across her face.

"It was _you_?" She clarified, unable to believe what she was hearing. Caleb was an ass sure, but she hadn't expected he'd go so far as to actually cause this whole problem. If he was the one who got her mother hooked on the new stuff then he wasn't leaving Gotham alive.

"Yeah it was me." Caleb boasted, that fucking grin on his face again. "What you going to do about it Maddy, huh? I noticed that your _new boyfriend_ didn't show up to help you. And you're acting all tough and cocky too, so what's stopping me doing a little more damage."

"Oh no, he's here." Madeline corrected, taking a confident step back and folding her arms. Caleb laughed with confusion and looked around briefly.

"Where?" He scoffed. "Is he hiding like a fucking pussy with no balls."

"Oh trust me." Madeline chuckled, shaking her head. "He's got bigger balls than you. I just had him hide so that when you showed up you didn't make a run for it like the cowardly chicken you are."

"Oh, he's that badass is he?" Caleb laughed, looking at his fellow bikers to laugh with him but they just looked bored and stayed silent, dampening his attempt to be tough. "Well then, bring him out. Let's see this big bad boyfriend of yours then. Perhaps I'll pop a cap in his ass and show you exactly the kind of man you're missing out on."

"You talk a lot of smack for a skinny little white boy." Waylon interrupted as he stalked around the corner. He growled and bared his teeth when he spotted Caleb who instantly fell backwards and scurried away, keeping his eyes on the approaching monster. Even the other bikers held their guns at Waylon with shaking hands, unsure what the best course of action was.

"What the fuck is that!" Caleb cried as he scurried back over to his brothers. His eyes were wide with fear and his face contorted with terror. Madeline grinned at the sight and wanted to give Waylon a special treat for that bad ass entrance, it really made Caleb crap his pants.

"You wanted to meet him didn't you?" Madeline reminded, a look of innocence on her face. She turned to Waylon and gave him a grin before turning back to Caleb.

"So this here is the ' _pussy with no balls_ '." Madeline explained in a cheery voice, gesturing towards Waylon who growled upon hearing what Caleb had called him and making the bikers jump. "And this is the _legend_ you'll supposedly never live to." Madeline pointed at Caleb and grinned as he struggled to get to his feet, using his bike as a crutch.

"That one right there. The one in the middle pissing his pants." She clarified, pointing some more. "Yeah. That's the _legend._ " Waylon growled very loudly and snapped his jaws shut, the sound echoing around them and making Caleb's face turn even paler. He went to take a step forward but Madeline held out her hand to stop him.

"Not yet babe. Not yet." She whispered, trying to contain the angry Killer Croc ready rip Caleb to shreds. This was all planned of course. Caleb was supposed to notice that Waylon wasn't there, insult him and then freak out when Waylon appeared around the corning being as menacing as possible. The performance was working well, a little punishment for all the shit Caleb caused them, but that didn't mean Waylon wasn't going to follow the script to the letter and _not_ kill them all. Waylon growled but obeyed, snarling at Caleb who was holding his gun now.

"You threatening us?" He sputtered, trying to hold up his gun in a shaky hand. "If you kill us then the boss will kill your mum and brother before you can get to them."

"Oh no no no no no." Madeline giggled, waving her hands as if to stop Caleb's train of thought. "I'm not threatening you. Please, take the money and go. A deal is a deal. I just want you to remember my boyfriends beautiful face." Madeline reached up and stroked the side of Waylon's face with the back of her hand.

"And his beautiful teeth." She added quickly. "And his beautifully short temper."

"Yeah we get it." One of the other bikers said, climbing onto his bike and revving the engine. "Don't worry, we'll make sure we leave your mum alone."

"Oh no, they're threatening us, we gotta kill them." Caleb insisted, walking forward and pointing the gun at Waylon who merely sneered at the attempt.

"Caleb leave it." The other biker warned. "You got a death wish or something?"

Caleb didn't listen to the warnings of his brothers and aimed the gun directly at Waylon's head. Waylon just folded his arms and stood there.

"Come on. Shoot me." He coaxed. "Shoot me between the eyes."

"Caleb we'll leave without you!" The bikers warned again, turning their bikes around to leave. Caleb was kind of useless to the biker gang, everyone knew that. He was more of a pain in the ass than anything else, and it was thanks to this commonly known fact that Madeline had a way for getting her revenge.

"How about a deal?" She suggested with a grin. Caleb looked at her but then back at Waylon, unsure on who was more dangerous.

"Oh yeah?" One of the bikers answered, making Caleb spin around to look at them.

"What? What deal?" He spluttered, keeping the gun on Waylon while trying to look around.

"How about you go home and tell your boss that you lost Caleb due to him being a stupid idiot and picking fights with people he was obviously too weak to handle." Madeline supposed, making Caleb become even more jittery at the prospect of being left behind. The bikers seemed to be thinking it over and then one of them revved his engine.

"Damn shame about Caleb." He said. "The cocky little bastard was a liability and a nuisance."

"What?" Caleb squeaked, backing up away from Madeline and Waylon. "Don't you dare!"

"Yeah, may he rest in peace." The other added, and they both sped off into the darkness.

"COME BACK!" Caleb yelled, running towards his bike but trying to keep his gun on Waylon at the same time. "DON'T LEAVE ME WITH THIS MONSTER!"

"Can I kill him now?" Waylon asked, licking his lips. His pupils turned to slits and he growled low.

"Only if you want to." Madeline said. She didn't want to force Waylon into his cannibalistic tendencies since they didn't help keep his mind normal. However, she couldn't help but relish the idea of cocky Caleb getting torn to shreds. Plus, it seemed like Waylon had given up on the idea of _not_ eating people and seemed to be doing it more often than not which was somewhat worrying.

"Oh I really want to." Waylon grinned, and he stalked after the fleeing Caleb who opened fire. The bullets merely bounced off Waylon's scaly hide, not even leaving a dent, and as Waylon's jaws drew closer Caleb let out the more terrified scream.

Caleb tasted awful, one of the worst tasting people Waylon had ever eaten. He even tasted worse than Aaron Cash's bony hand, and that hand had tasted pretty bad as well. He only ate a little of Caleb's body, an arm and a bit of flesh but he mostly just tore up the body. It did feel good to kill the son of a bitch though, for all his snide comments to Madeline at the very least. Madeline was stood a few feet away, quite happily watching Waylon tear the body to shreds. She was a strange one. She almost looked like she enjoyed watching the depraved display of monstrosity. Her plan _had_ worked however, he had to give her credit for that, all be it a little showy. The dramatic reveal, the deal made with the bikers to leave Caleb behind. It was smart, even if a little unnecessarily dramatised.

Wiping the blood from his face Waylon stalked over to Madeline who licked her lips as if she had just been eating someone.

"You make a pretty good little criminal mastermind." Waylon said, putting his hands on Madeline's lower back and bringing her closer. Madeline giggled and shook her head.

"Na, I just like acting from time to time." She confessed, selling herself short. "It's fun to pretend to be some dangerous psycho criminal chick from time to time. Scaring the thugs as their life comes to a traumatic end."

"Wow, a little sinister aren't we." Waylon supposed, licking his lips as he examined Madeline from head to toe. All this time she had been in tight leather pants and he hadn't done anything about it.

"Perhaps I can get to know this little _psycho criminal_ a bit more intimately huh?" He suggested, kissing Madeline lightly on the lips. Madeline wrapped her arms around his neck and held him in place so his kiss would last longer.

When their lips parted Madeline looked breathy, flustered and very, very sexy. That, or disgusted at the fact she probably had a bit of Caleb's blood in her mouth. Waylon couldn't tell.

"Come on." Madeline said, turning on her heel and sauntering towards the warehouse. "Wanna find out what a _dangerous_ criminal master mind like me is capable of doing with a bit of rope and a bottle of wine?"

 **So now that that problem is dealt with, what will happen next. Just giving you a warning, I'm going to start using a sledge hammer for the next few bits of this chapter, make sure your feelings don't get smashed to pieces.**


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Waylon stared with horror at the two practically identical pieces of coloured fabric dangling before him. They were both red, yet Madeline insisted that they were different colours and Waylon had to pick one. To make matters worse, every time he just gave up on looking for a difference and picked one at random, Madeline would get upset and protest against his decision and yet she hadn't come to a conclusion either. They were on round three now and Waylon's head was starting to hurt.

"They are exactly the same." He grumbled for the millionth time.

"No they are not." Madeline protested, holding them closer to Waylon's face as if that would help. "One is more ruby and one is more cherry, but which one goes with the dress?"

"I don't fucking know they're just ties." Waylon growled, throwing his hands in the air and stalking off the couch where a porn movie was playing.

He had been quite happily watching porn and relaxing when Madeline had shown up screeching like a banshee about the worst thing in the world happening. Waylon had assumed the worst only to discover the situation was to do with Madeline being unable to decided which red tie matched her red dress. As the minutes turned to hours Waylon began to regret the idea to go to an underground nightclub for criminals only. It was a secret little place with copious amounts of alcohol, drugs and strippers, perfect for date night. It was supposed to be a bit of fun, something kind of normal for them to do at least. But the whole thing had become a missive effort since Madeline had started panicking about clothes of all things. It was a nightclub, people didn't look at your clothes, they looked at what was beneath the clothes, or at least tried to.

"They are not _just_ ties. You have to match my dress or we'll look out of place." Madeline insisted, whipping out her phone and comparing the tie colours with the image. Waylon shook his head.

"You know what else looks out of place. A crocodile wearing a tie." Waylon grumbled, returning his attention to the flesh fest on the screen. Madeline glanced at the television and turned her head to the side.

"How can she bend that way?" Madeline asked, peering at the contorted body of the porn star on the screen. Waylon tilted his head to the side too.

"You know I have no idea. Wanna find out?" He suggested, patting his lap and giving Madeline a wink. Madeline grinned but she didn't make a move to heed his request and held up the ties again.

"Once we figure out which tie matches the dress."

"Why red?" Waylon asked after another few painful minutes of deliberation over the tie colour. It was getting ridiculous how much Madeline was obsessing over it.

"Because it matches the dress." Madeline said blankly, raising an eyebrow at the stupid question.

"Yes, but why red?" Waylon asked again, this time as if he were asking a great philosophical question to do with the universe and existence itself. He was so bored, even with the porn to watch.

"Because it's my favourite colour." Madeline said blankly once again, and again raising an eyebrow at the stupid question. Waylon stopped messing about and thought for a moment, Madeline staring at her phone again. He remembered the thoughts that crossed his mind when they were facing Bane back in that steel mill warehouse. He remembered feeling bad about not knowing that Madeline spoke Mexic... Spanish, and had wondered about all the other things in Madeline's life he didn't know. She was his girlfriend for crying out loud, and as implausible as it sounded he intended to be with her for as long as she'd let him. If that was going to happen, he needed to know more about her.

"Hey babe." He called as Madeline almost threw her phone across the room out of frustration before remembering it was expensive. "Come here a sec." Madeline stalked over, still cursing at her phone and the ties. Waylon pulled her onto his lap and she landed between his legs, leaning against one thigh with her feet up on the other. She still glared at the ties.

"What's your middle name?" Waylon asked, and Madeline looked at him with confusion.

"My middle name?" She queried. "Why do you want to know that?"

"I want to know about you." Waylon confessed rather nervously, more nervously than he was comfortable being. "Like the little things about you. What scares you, what your first pets name was, what your favourite TV show is."

"Babe." Madeline giggled, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "You worry too much. I'm not going to get mad or anything that you don't know every detail about me." Madeline leant forward and gave him a kiss. The kiss tasted so good Waylon didn't press on the questions and kissed her back, scooping her up in his arms and holding her tight.

As his hands ran down Madeline's thigh she slapped them lightly.

"Hey." She scolded. "No fun until we pick a tie." Waylon rolled his eyes, tossed Madeline onto her back and snatched both ties from her grasp. He wrapped one tie around Madeline's wrists before she could so much as squeak and held the other up in front of the now alarmed yet aroused Madeline.

"I'm wearing this one." Waylon stated, and tossed it behind him before ripping off Madeline's pants and going in for an uninterrupted taste.

"W-What are you doing?" Madeline spluttered, wriggling to get her hands loose but they were locked up tight. Waylon did respond to her question, and instead flicked against Madeline's core with his long reptilian tongue. Madeline hissed in a breath as he flicked back and forth against her sensitive parts, each time his tongue knocked the sensitive member Madeline let out a raspy moan. The sound of her moaning was pleasurable to hear but Waylon resisted the urge to leap on top of her and thrust inside, and instead lowered his tongue to push inside of her core, the sticky lubricant tasting sweet like caramelised sugar.

As he pushed his tongue inside the hotness of Madeline's walls almost scorched him, but he endeared and flicked his tongue about inside, making Madeline wriggle with delight. He pushed it as far as it would go, which was pretty far thanks to the size of it, careful not to cut Madeline with his teeth which became increasingly difficult as Madeline fidgeted about. He reached up to steady her, slipping his hand under her shirt and clutching at her breast, squeezing the flesh tightly so that some of spilled out of his hands but careful not to cut her with his claws. Madeline let out a gasp and bit her lip, moving her hips to try and push Waylon's tongue deeper inside.

Waylon was more than happy to oblige her wishes and ran his tongue around in a circle inside of her, pushing on the walls and lapping up the sweet tasting juices. Now _this_ was the only way he should eat someone. Madeline wriggled and squirmed with ecstasy as Waylon flicked his tongue about, trying to pull her hands free but unable to do so, which only made the pleasure more intense. Oh he wanted to fuck her so badly, his manhood pressing against his pants and demanding that the zipper release him. He couldn't cage the beast much longer and sped up the pace to bring Madeline to a climax.

"I'm gonna... I'm going to..." She gasped, and then it her like a bolt of lightning, forcing to her arch her back as she gasped for air as if her soul had just been yanked out of her body. More juices spilled from her core as she orgasmed and Waylon made sure to lap up very last drop, each lick and flick of his tongue causing Madeline to twitch, her whole body in spasm as he hit the sensitive recovering nerves.

"Oh my, that was... That was incredible." Madeline gasped, her eyes glazed over and a bit of saliva at the corner of her mouth it had been so good. Waylon felt very proud of his skills but he wasn't done there. Before the sensation died he pulled Madeline up onto his lap and thrust inside of her, her hot insides even hotter not and almost causing his throbbing member to burn with the intensity of the heat. Madeline, who was still sensitive, practically convulsed at the feeling, her whole body clamping down and squeezing Waylon tight. He grunted and swallowed down his desire to blow already, it would be a bit embarrassing for him to lose it so quickly.

With his hands on Madeline's hips he moved her up and down, pushing as deep inside her as he could tolerate considering it was like pushing into fire inside of her. So good yet also somewhat terrifying. But Madeline couldn't be any other way, only she could have insides so hot and scorching that it made regular sex so delicious. The only way to push past the heat was to do it quickly so Waylon sped up the pace, slamming hard into her and pushing all the way in. Madeline gasped, her eyes unable to stay open or close fully, fluttering at half mast as if she were in a constant state of climax. Seeing her with so much pleasure in her eyes was pleasurable in itself. _He_ was doing that. The ugly freak of a man supposedly to die alone was able to make a beautiful woman like Madeline moan with pleasure and grind against him for more. Granted, the sheer _size_ of him probably had a lot to do with that but still. As Madeline hooked her tied hands around the back of Waylon's head, locking herself in place, she gazed into his eyes with a look of not just desire and ecstasy, but also a look of love.

He couldn't hold it back anymore, sure it hadn't exactly been a marathon but it was just too good to last any longer. He pushed inside her as far as he could go, possibly pressing against internal organs, he wasn't quite sure. Madeline gasped and her whole body tightened and clamped down on him once more as she climaxed. Waylon grinned, at least she came first, now she had no reason to complain about his lack of stamina. He felt his whole body come alive in tingling rapture and for a moment nothing seemed to make sense and yet also come together and provide meaning for the universe. He couldn't explain it, it was just so damn good. He clutched at Madeline's body tightly, pulling her close and pressing his head against her chest as if to stabilize himself.

"Ooh that was better than porn." He gasped as he slowly came down from the climactic high. Madeline wriggled a little against him, making him do the twitching as recovering nerves were interrupted.

"Damn, you are an animal." Madeline exclaimed, a goofy smile on her face that didn't look to be coming off any time soon. Waylon grinned and bared his teeth in a mock scary way.

"Grrr." He said with a smirk and went in to give Madeline a kiss. Madeline, despite being able to taste herself on his tongue, kissed him back hard in a messy passionate kiss that outsiders could only describe as disgusting. It felt so good though, everything felt so good with Madeline. It was just _right_ , everything about her with just _right_ , and Waylon wanted to keep that forever.

"I love you." He said as their lips parted for a gasp of air.

"I love you more." Madeline gasped, a moan really. Then she pulled away and had a look of naughty desire on her face but also a bit of mischievousness.

"What?" Waylon asked, a little concerned but also excited. Madeline was quiet for a moment, but a smile formed across her face as if she were holding in a laugh.

"We have to pick a tie."

Madeline arrived at the club before Waylon did, and as she stepped out of the taxi into the cold night air she couldn't help but shiver beneath her fur coat. It was dark and cold in the alley as she stepped onto the curb and the taxi pulled away a little too quickly for her to be comfortable with. There was a few steps that went down to a door with a neon light above it in the shape of an arrow pointing down. That was the entrance, but where was Madeline's date.

She leant against the wall and pulled out her phone to check for messages, not that she expected any from the technophobic crocodile. After he'd distracted her with a bid of bondage pleasure she'd left, all bit a bit dizzy and high on oxytocin, to go home and get ready. No offence to Waylon but his warehouse didn't quite have the capabilities to supply a girl with adequate means of getting ready for a night out. They'd decided to meet at the club, however, as she waiting in darkness, Madeline felt rather uneasy about the situation. This was a club for criminals right? And her previous experience with criminal thugs wasn't exactly pleasant to say the least.

"Someone looks like another statistic." A stranger's voice said, making Madeline jump as the shadow emerged from the darkness. Her pounding heart began to settle when she recognised the slim, obnoxious Riddle master dressed in a green suit with a purple tie. She had to admit, _he_ understood the need for the right colours in an outfit.

"You scared me." Madeline grumbled, putting her phone away in her little black handbag. She scowled at the scrawny Riddler, it wasn't a surprise he had no luck with women if he crept up on them like that.

"You're alone in dark alley, scared is what you _should_ be." Riddler lectured, standing beside Madeline with his hands in his pockets. Madeline didn't know what he was doing so close to her. Was the guy trying to make a move or something? She etched away a little and Riddler laughed at her sudden bout of caution.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything." He snorted. "Waylon told me to wait with you. He had an errand to run or something."

"An errand? Right before we're supposed to meet? Couldn't he have picked a better time for that?" Madeline whined.

"Yes well, apparently not." Riddler complained, sighing exasperatedly. "I don't like being forced to babysit."

Madeline scowled and lifted the side of her dress up. Riddler's face instantly went red and he looked away like a priest who had just seen a naked woman.

"What are you doing?" He asked, almost crying out of fear. Madeline hadn't expected him to do _that_ , but damn was it funny.  
"No genius." Madeline laughed. "I'm showing you this." Madeline pulled her gun out from the holster she'd bought the other day. It was one of those ones you strapped to your thigh under a dress, a bit like a saloon girl from the old west. Madeline waved the gun a little and then put it back, causing Riddler to freak out again. Man, he really needed to get laid. He was like a little teenage boy who had never seen a girl in person. One of those creeps who watched Japanese animated pornography or something.

"Can you even shoot?" Riddler complained, still as red as Madeline's dress.

"Yes I can thank you." Madeline said with her nose in the air. Riddler rolled his eyes at her cockiness and glanced at his watch.

"How long is this going to take?" He complained, folding his arms and scowling at the sewer grate near where they were standing. Madeline had a sudden horrible thought of Waylon showing up via the sewer system and being ready to go into a club having just come from the sewers. She prayed that wasn't the case or she wasn't seriously going to throw a fit.

Two other people walked by. One was a rather handsome looking man with long blond hair in a ponytail wearing a grey suit with an orange tie. He had a cheeky grin on his face and a girl on his arm. Not his girlfriend but she had obviously been paid enough to cling to him as if she was.

"Wow Eddie." The man said, sounding somewhat surprised. "How much are you paying her?"

"Not enough." Madeline said, interrupting Riddler who was about to say something. The stranger laughed and went down the stairs to the club with his escort. Riddler scowled at Madeline who just shrugged her shoulders.

"That's pay back for trying to blow me up." Madeline confessed gleefully.

Suddenly there was the scream of a woman, a blood curdling scream that even made Riddler jump. In fact, he jumped a little bit more than Madeline did. A few seconds later Waylon came walking quickly down the street, thankfully using his common sense and not taking the sewer route.

"Scare someone did you Magic Mike?" Riddler said, snorting at the sight of Waylon in a tie. Since no shirt would actually fit him Waylon was wearing the tie on his bare skin, which somewhat made him look like a reptilian stripper. It was quite funny actually and Madeline couldn't help but snort a little bit. Waylon glared at them and growled with frustration.

"Told you I'd look out of place." Waylon grumbled, his cheeks almost turning red as well. It didn't help his situation that the tie wasn't fastened correctly. Actually, it looked like he'd just tied a knot in it.

"Here, let me sort that out for you." Madeline insisted, going up to fix the tie.

"I don't think that's going to help him much." Riddler chortled. Waylon glared and growled at Riddler who took the hint and skulked off into the club.

"See you guys inside." He called, giving a wave as someone opened the door to let him in. Madeline giggled as she fixed the tie and Waylon just looked uncomfortable.

"Do I have to wear it?" He wined, sounding like a child.

"Oh please do. For me." Madeline pouted, batting her eyelids which seemed to win Waylon over.

"So what took you so long? Riddler said you were running an errand or something." Madeline asked as she tied the tie properly. It was kind of difficult to do since it was a little too high up for her to reach on Waylon.

"I was getting you something." Waylon confessed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a blue velvet box. Madeline's heart skipped a beat. A blue box. That wasn't... It couldn't be... He wasn't going to... Madeline couldn't move, she was in shock. He wasn't actually going to...

"Come on, open it." Waylon encouraged, noticing Madeline's hesitation. He didn't look nervous or anything so perhaps it wasn't what she thought it was going to be. But he did look a little embarrassed so maybe it was. Waylon let it sit in the palm of his hand as Madeline opened it cautiously, fearing and somewhat hoping for the same thing at the same time. She lifted the lid and her face lit up with surprise and delight when she what it was. She couldn't believe it, it was exquisite.

Inside the box was a beautiful and very expensive looking silver necklace with a glistening emerald pendant. It was simple but oh so beautiful and above it in the box sat two matching emerald studs.

"Oh my god. Waylon, it's beautiful." Madeline exclaimed, relieved it wasn't what she thought it was going to be. She wouldn't know how to deal with such a thing if it had been. She turned around and held her hair up. Waylon looked a little confused.

"Would you put it on me?" Madeline asked sweetly, glancing at him over her shoulder and batting her lashes once more. Waylon took the necklace out and put the box back in his pocket as he reached over and gentle hooked the chain around Madeline's neck. He struggled with the latch for a short while, making Madeline giggle. He was something else. She had to admit, this was a total and unexpected surprise but one that made her night. He was so much more than everyone thought he was, and she was glad to be one of the only people to see that.

Once Madeline had put in the matching earrings and tossed her pathetic glass ones into the gutter they went down the steps to the door that looked sealed shut. Batman reinforced. Waylon knocked on the door and a little panel slid to the side to reveal a set of eyes. The eyes looked scared when they spotted the giant looming crocodile at the doorstep.

"You're not going to destroy the place are ya?" The eyes pleaded.

"No." He growled, his voice not really persuading anyone. Still, the eyes obeyed and with a click the door was unlocked revealing the bouncer, a middle aged bald man in a black suit.

Madeline stepped inside first and a smaller man with a full head of hair also wearing a black suit offered to take her coat. Waylon ducked under the doorway and the bouncer gave him ample amount of room to get by. He loosened the tie, much to Madeline's disapproval, but there wasn't much she could do about it now. Then, the smaller man put his hands on Madeline's waist and she spun around, pushing him back in the process.

"What do you think you're doing?" She exclaimed, keeping the man at arm's length. Waylon growled but the room was too small to cause a fuss so he couldn't do anything more.

"Just checking for weapons. We don't allow weapons in the club." The man said, and Madeline suddenly felt a little mad for shoving him.

"Oh, well you could have just asked."

She slid the skirt of her dress up a little and took the gun and holster off. All three of the guys in the room seemed to stare as did so, but the only person she chose to glare at was Waylon who looked more shocked than in awe.

"Why did you bring a gun?" He asked, ignoring the mans feeble attempt to check _his_ pockets and instead moving to go into the next room.

"I was alone in a dark alley for a good ten minutes. Something could have happened." Madeline justified, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

"You had Ed with you." Waylon said. Madeline scoffed at the idea of Riddler defending her.

"Yeah right. Because Riddler is the perfect choice for protection." Madeline laughed sarcastically. Waylon did nod and accept this as reason enough for a gun and they turned a corner to see lights and music coming from an open doorway. The music was the latest dance or hip hop tracks, something you can grind to, and when they entered the dance floor, Madeline couldn't believe her eyes.

The room was lit up in purple and pink lights that strobed to the sound of the music, illuminating the criminals and low lives in a flattering and elegant glow. Dancing on podiums and occasionally coming down for a private dance were several girls clad in golden sequin dresses, glittering in cheap golden jewellery like a prize bank heist incarnate, perfect for a room full of criminals. There was a large bar in the centre of the room with a glorious selection of mixers and spirits, as well as some beautiful working girls perched on bar stools trying for a more wealthy clientele. There were some stairs that changed colour from purple to pink that lead up to a balcony where plush leather couches sat occupied by only the most influential criminal in the room. Judging by the size and height of the criminal Madeline could just make out sitting in said VIP booth, tonight's big fish was none other than Penguin.

Madeline glanced at Waylon who looked somewhat uncomfortable surrounded by so many people. A couple of them looked at him, a couple more stared, but most were used to seeing dangerous criminals like him and kept their eyes averted.

"You okay?" Madeline asked, speaking over her shoulder to him.

"Yeah." Waylon said in a much calmer tone than she expected him to speak in. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, people are looking." Madeline pointed out, a little confused as to why he wasn't getting at least a little upset by it. She liked it when he got all embarrassed, that way she could cheer him up and make him feel better about himself. Waylon grinned and leant down to whisper in Madeline's ear.

"They're not staring at _me_." He corrected gleefully, and Madeline furrowed her brow with confusion.  
"What?" She asked, looking around for answers. Waylon chuckled at her unawareness.

"They're staring at the one thing weirder than the giant crocodile freak." He explained with a grin, nudging her to move forward. "The girl who dates him."

 **Ooh a nightclub full of criminals, who else will we get to meet? Also I hope you liked that little steamy scene. I'm unsure about posting content with steamy stuff in it because I'm not sure how fanfiction net works with all of that stuff but if its all good then I shall keep those things descriptive.**


	24. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

The club was busy and crowded, not exactly Waylon's cup of tea, but Madeline seemed to be excited about it so he did his best not to complain. One of the barmen came out from behind the busy bar and showed them to a booth with a big purple leather couch and a coffee table.

"Ooh, I didn't know we'd be getting the VIP treatment." Madeline giggled as she slid into a seat next to Waylon, nestling herself under his arm.

"Yeah well, the deal is if they keep me happy I won't destroy the place." Waylon confessed. Most of the big criminals in Gotham got free VIP booths and free drinks all night long due to the power that they held. While Waylon didn't exactly have an influential power, they couldn't exactly refuse the giant crocodile service and not suffer a couple casualties, or at least that's what they thought would happen.

"Drinks?" The barman asked, looking at Madeline rather than Waylon for an answer.

"Do you make fruit tingles?" Madeline asked, her eyes lighting up. Waylon had no idea what that drink was, probably a girly one.

"I can make one for you." The barman said, and then he reluctantly looked to Waylon for his order. Waylon shrugged. He wasn't really picky about alcohol, and it took a lot to get him drunk.

"I dunno. Bottle of Jack Daniels?" He suggested, and the barman was all too happy to take that as final and hurried away to make the drinks. Waylon glanced around. A couple of people were looking at them, but most had the common sense to keep their eyes away. It was a little reassuring to know they were more intrigued by Madeline than him, but he couldn't help but feel like their judging eyes were viewing Madeline as an escort with low standards rather than someone who would actually _want_ to be with him.

"So..." Madeline said, snuggling in close and running her finger over Waylon's chest in a way that made him shiver with delight. "You going to dance with me after drinks?"

"Dance?" Waylon scoffed, shaking his head. "Oh no, I don't dance. In the warehouse with no one watching, fine. But not in public." He really meant it. He was _not_ dancing in public. It would look ridiculous. Even more so than him wearing a tie.

"Aw." Madeline pouted, batting her eyelids. "Pretty please?"

"Not going to happen."

"Your drinks." The barman said, arriving with a tray holding one blue and purple slushy type drink in a wine glass, and a bottle of Jack next to a scotch glass with ice. Madeline took the girly drink eagerly and sipped it through the straw.

"Mm, this is so good." She praised, taking another sip. "Try a bit." She offered the straw to Waylon who took a very tentative sip which was difficult to do considering the shape of his jaw and teeth. It was sweet, like stupidly sweet and hardly tasted like it had any alcohol in it.

"Ew." He protested, taking a swig of the Jack Daniels without needing the glass. He knew he probably looked very vulgar doing that but how else was he supposed to drink it, using a tiny glass in his massive clawed hands? Madeline didn't seem to mind too much and gleefully guzzled her drink with rosy cheeks.

Waylon shook his head with despair but smiled, and glanced around the room. It was a busy night for sure, and there were mainly criminal thugs and D list criminals on the dance floor. Up in the private booth on the balcony that overlooked the whole dance floor was a familiar face, or rather, two familiar faces on one head. Twoface sat with an entourage of girls who all seemed to have a twin within the group. Waylon shook his head and sighed. What was with that guy and things being in twos. Standing at the edge of the room chatting up a sexy looking woman clad in black was another familiar face, this one with mutton chops wearing a long trench coat and blue beanie that didn't really fit in with everyone else. He had a can of beer fixed in his hand and Waylon could practically hear the Australian accent from where he was sat.

Closer to the bar and as close to the ice cooler as possible was a pale skinned woman dressed in blue with icy coloured hair and a face that only medusa could rival in sternness. She was sat near a woman with lightly tanned skin and red hair wearing a leopard print dress, or was it cheetah print. To make up their little quartet were two more women. Another red head wearing a tight pink dress, and another pale skinned, almost blue skinned, woman with short spiky blue hair wearing a black dress with an unusual zig-zag cut. What was this, super villainess girls night out?

"You looking at other women?" Madeline complained, poking Waylon in the side. Waylon snapped his vision away from all the D-list criminals and back to Madeline who looked mildly ticked off. Despite her sour expression Madeline did look gorgeous in her red dress. It was tight fitting and clung to her curves that seemed to be void of any bumps or lumps, a perfect shape. It had a nice V cut that dipped just how enough to show off a little bit of Madeline's cleavage so she looked sexy but also classy at the same time, with off the shoulder straps that allowed her collar and neck to be on display as well as the necklace. Waylon hadn't really given it much thought but Madeline's collar was super sexy as well. Could she do no wrong. How could he even observe another woman when he had _this_ stunning beauty beside him.

"Nope, I was looking at Ed." Waylon lied, pointing in the direction of the bar once more. Over by the bar trying to flirt with a girl who was obviously disinterested in him was Riddler. He looked to be explaining something complex and getting really into it while the girl just looked around for a way out. Eventually, she found an exit in the form of a handsome guy with blonde hair who seemed to walk with a spring in his step and a sly grin on his face as he stole Riddler's target away. Defeated and somewhat humiliated, Riddler stalked over to the couch and slumped down on the edge.

"Hey." Waylon growled, trying to shoo Riddler away. "Fuck off will ya."

"You're the one who made me come to this." Riddler complained, ignoring Waylon's attempts to get rid of him. No doubt it was because he was safely on the other side of Madeline.

"That doesn't mean you get to hang around." Waylon grumbled, but Madeline seemed much more concerned with Riddler's feelings.

"Aw there there Eddie." Madeline pandered, patting Riddler on the shoulder. "Have you tried starting with a funny pick up line? Show the girl you're charming _and_ funny."

"Of course, I know how to pick up girls." Riddler protested, clearing his throat for his example. "Girl, you must be made of Florine, Iodine, and Neon, because you are FINe." Madeline groaned with despair and Waylon just stared into the distance very confused. What the heck was that supposed to be.

"Okay..." Madeline began, sounding like she was trying to find the will to live. "Maybe try and steer clear from the nerdy pick up lines. They aren't as endearing as the internet makes them out to be."

"Whatever you do don't start it with ' _girl_ ' _._ You are too skinny and too white to pull that off." Waylon added, taking another swig from the bottle of Jack Daniels. Madeline looked around for inspiration.

"Maybe do whatever that guy is doing?" She said, pointing towards the man in the grey suit and orange tie from before. "He seems to be a hit with the ladies."

"I am not taking any tips from that _copycat_." Riddler hissed, sounding like he had a person vendetta against the guy.

"Why not? Who is he anyway?" Madeline asked, peering over at the blonde man who was on his third girl of the evening. Waylon glanced over and tried place him, but gave up after a few seconds. He couldn't keep track of all the wannabe criminals in Gotham.

"His name is Arthur Brown. AKA, Cluemaster." Riddler spat with disgust.

"Ah." Madeline said, realising the reason for Riddler's seeming offence at the man's existence. "Sounds like a rip off character for when they can't get permission to use the original in a TV show." Riddler laughed at the comparison but continued to scowl at Arthur who was flirting his way to eleven digits. Waylon was kind of glad he'd met Madeline six years ago when there was no competitor around, or anyone around really to win her over. He would have even less luck than Riddler in the dating field, unless Poison Ivy decided to stop fucking plants for five minutes.

"What little party do we have over here." A prominent New Yorker accent said, and a bouncing crazy little clown girl dressed in black and red bounded into view. Harley Quinn, Joker's girlfriend, and all round unpredictable mess of hormones and Stockholm syndrome. She was wearing a tight dress divided into four squares of red and black, with four diamonds arranged in a diamond on each side of the lower squares, the ones on the red in black, and the ones on the black in red. She had corresponding red and black gloves, one colour on each arm, and knee high black boots. Naturally she had her blonde hair in pigtails, one with red dye on the tips, and the other with black dye. Her makeup wasn't quite clown princess anymore but more suitable for a night out whilst still retaining a little bit of the Harley Quinn.

Harley looked like she wanted to get up to mischief, but she also looked kind of sat as well, as if she were trying to party her problems away. It wasn't surprising since her boyfriend was dead, even if he had tried to kill her on numerous occasions. Then Waylon remembered what Joker had told him that day at the strip club after he'd freaked Madeline out. He'd said something along the lines of pushing the people you care about away for their well being. He couldn't have possibly meant that _he_ pushed Harley away to protect her, and if he did it hadn't worked because she'd be rampaging across the city for the last few weeks since his death. Certainly not someone who had been _pushed away_.

"So you're the crocodiles girlfriend huh?" Harley said, leaning on the table. "Nice to meet ya. I'm Harley Quinn." Harley extended a hand and Madeline shook it with a grin.

"Nice to meet you too Harley." She said with an honest smile. "I love your dress."

"Oh this old thing?" Harley said, glancing down at her outfit. "Mr J loved this dress on me. I was going to wear it to his funeral but it was too cold." Harley looked up as if she were talking to the heavens, a tear in her eye.

"I miss you Pudin'. That stupid bat took you away from me." She cried, looking like she about to go on an epic mission of revenge.  
"Aw. I'm so sorry about your Joker." Madeline said, and Waylon knew she wasn't really sorry but she was good at pretending.

"Thank you." Harley sniffed, and the her mood suddenly switched back to excitable. "You wanna dance?" She offered her hand to Madeline.

"Sure." Madeline beamed, taking Harley's hand and stepping onto the coffee table before hopping off on the other side. "This one doesn't want to." Madeline gestured to Waylon who wanted to protest against Harley stealing his girl away, but Madeline did have a point about him not dancing so perhaps he'd let her dance a little with the clown princess.

"I know right. They're so boring. Always like ' _What do you want? Go away I'm busy_.' Or ' _How are you still alive_?'. Who needs 'em."

Waylon watched wistfully as Harley dragged Madeline into the sea of people, disappearing for a moment.

"Can I have some of that?" Riddler asked, reaching for the bottle of Jack Daniels. Waylon snatched it away and glared at the thieving Riddler.

"Hell no, get your own." He snapped, swigging the rest of it down in a couple of gulps.

"But I have to pay for mine." Riddler complained, scowling back but softening his expression when Waylon bared his teeth in a snarl.

"That's your problem for not being more intimidating." Waylon stated flatly, and tossed the empty bottle onto Riddler's lap. He glanced over at the dance floor and spotted Harley and Madeline push one of the dancer's off her podium and climb up onto it in her place. What were they doing?

"Hey Mr DJ!" Harley yelled, throwing a glass at the DJ who just narrowly avoided getting hit by it. "Put on Toxic!" The DJ quickly obliged and soon Britney Spears was playing throughout the nightclub. As the music built up Madeline put her hands in the air and shook her hips from side to side, going down the second beat and rising once more when the lyrics began, her hands on, curving her body into Harley who put her hands on Madeline lower back and pulled her close.

"Baby, can't you see. I'm calling." Britney sang through the speakers as Madeline spun around and rippled her body in unison with Harley who had her hands on Madeline's hips.

"Holy shit." Riddler exclaimed, getting to his feet. Waylon just froze up. What was he watching? Whatever it was, it was good.

"A guy like you should wear a warning. It's dangerous. I'm falling."

With Harley's hands on her shoulders she slowly danced to a crouch, quite a feat in her high heels. Harley put her hands in her air and flicked her head from side to side while Madeline ruffled her own hair.

"There's no escape. I can't wait." The music played, and Madeline went onto her knees to slowly and sensually bounce in place, mimicking sex with a _come hither_ look on her face. "I need a hit, baby give me it. You're dangerous. I'm loving it." Harley took both of Madeline's hands and held them up as Madeline stood, running her hands down Madeline's body as Madeline rose up and hooking a leg over Madeline's hip. The crowd cheered at this display, screaming like crazed teenagers at a house party. Waylon kind of wanted to push them all away so they couldn't see _his_ girls sexy performance, but he also couldn't bring himself to do anything other than stare and drool in awe.

"Too high. Can't come down."

Harley twirled her way around Madeline's body, taking her by the waist and yanking her closer. Madeline's leg hooked around Harley's waist instinctively and Harley lowered her into a dip.

"Losin' my head spinnin' 'round and 'round."

Following the lyrics Harley swung Madeline low over the audience, sending them wild. Waylon spotted Madeline giggle a little and so did Harley but they quickly resumed their sultry expressions. Harley lifted Madeline up once more but this time yanked her closer with one hand on the back of her neck.

"Do you feel me now?" Harley mouthed, running her free hand around Madeline's back. They shared a moment of lustful expressions as their lips drew closer. Waylon tore the couch he was gripping it so tight. Were they actually going to... Oh please let them...

As the chorus boomed so did all the men in audience as Harley Quinn and Madeline's lips clasped together. It was so hot. Two sexy women in a passionate embrace. Waylon was too turned on to be mad about it. Now _that_ was a three-way he'd like to experience. Riddler jaw dropped and he looked like he'd just witnessed creation itself.

"Why do you have a sexy girlfriend like that?" He complained, not taking his eyes of the two dancing girls.

"You know I don't have the slightest clue." Waylon gaped in awe, watching as Madeline hopped off the stage and pushed through the crowd back to him as Harley continued to dance solo.

Madeline hopped onto the table, crossed one leg over the other and took hold of his tie in one smooth motion.

"I'm addicted to you don't you know that you're toxic." Madeline sang, pulling Waylon closer by his tie for a kiss but then denying him the pleasure. She hopped off the table and walked backwards, shaking her hips and moving her shoulders sexually with that come hither look. Waylon growled a little to himself for being so weak against Madeline's charms and obeyed his mistresses commands. He got to his feet and somewhat begrudgingly but with a little bit of rhythm walked over to Madeline who was beaming ear to ear that he was finally going to dance with her.

Granted it wasn't really dancing, it was more standing and letting Madeline dance around him with the occasional contribution of a hand here or a dip there. He was embarrassed about it, but when he kept his eyes on Madeline and tried to ignore the staring eyes he felt okay. Madeline sang along to the lyrics, grinding up against him and making a few of the other men in the room jealous. Madeline looked to be having the time of her life as she twirled and ducked, dived and spun around, using her professional skills at sultry dancing to compensate for Waylon's rigid and awkward attempt. Again, it probably looked ridiculous to watch, but screw everyone else, this sexy girl was _his_ woman, and nobody else got to dance with her. Well, accept for Harley, but that was different and the image could be stored away for later use.

When the song came to an end and Harley had gotten through at least three more dancers who now questioned their sexuality, Waylon and Madeline returned to the couch.

"That was fun!" Madeline exclaimed, falling into Waylon's lap and giving him a peck on the cheek. "Thank you for dancing with me."

"Well I had to win you back somehow." Waylon said jokingly, glancing over at Harley who was currently beating someone to a bloody pulp in the corner for looking at her wrong. Everyone just ignored it, it was a normal sight in a criminal nightclub. Madeline giggled and took a sip from the new fruit tingle that had been brought for her while she was dancing. She popped it down and swung her legs off Waylon to get onto her feet.

"I'll be back." Madeline sang, sauntering off.

"Wait, where are you going?" Waylon called, suddenly terrified Madeline had found a new love interest in the promiscuous Harley Quinn.

"The bathroom." Madeline confessed, spinning around and giving him a quick little wave before heading off.

 **Shout out if you can guess the names of all the criminals Waylon notices in the club. Some of them are pretty D-list so good luck. Also hope that little dance scene was to everyone's liking but the fun is just getting started. In the next chapter things are going to start getting hectic.**


	25. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Madeline touched up her makeup in the bathroom mirror while the music continued to blaze outside. That dance with Harley Quinn had been something else and Madeline hoped that Waylon had enjoyed her little show for him. Of course he did, he was a guy, what guy didn't like watching two hot girls making out. As she reapplied more lipstick the door to the bathroom opened and another person walked in. Madeline wasn't really paying attention to who it was but then a hand landed on her shoulder and spun her around violently.

"What the hell was that!" Paula yelled, shaking Madeline by the shoulders and causing her to drop the lipstick. It hit the ground face down and smudged, leaving a red splodge on the tiles.

"Paula? What are you doing here?" Madeline asked, shoving her friend away a little and retrieving the now busted up lipstick.

"Working. Which you'd know if you ever came to work anymore." Paula scolded, folding her arms and glowering at Madeline. She was wearing the golden sequin attire of the other dancing girls. Madeline wondered perhaps if _she_ had been another victim of Harley Quinn's little kissing rampage.

She shrugged at Paula's complaints and tossed the lipstick in the bin. It was too ruined to repair and she could always get more for cheap.

"I've been taking a break. You know, like a couple mental health day days. Or weeks perhaps, I lose track." Madeline theorised, not quite sure just how long it had been since she'd gone to work. She'd been spending all her time with Waylon and those nights seemed to fly by so she'd lost all concept of time.

"How is going out to parties conducive to mental health?" Paula exclaimed, blocking Madeline from leaving the bathroom with her arms. Madeline tried to step around her but Paula just moved into the way. She sighed.

"Some people meditate. I party, get drunk and have copious amounts of sex. We all respond to things differently."

"I sincerely hope that the copious amounts of sex are at least with _human_ partners." Paula growled. Madeline giggled nervously.

"Well..." She began, blushing a little. Guess there was no point keeping it a secret from Paula anymore since everyone else seemed to know about it.

Paula's face turned as white as a sheet and her jaw dropped.

"Oh my god!" She spat with disgust. "Don't tell me you're fucking that crocodile freak!"

"Hey!" Madeline protested, jabbing her friend with her finger. "He can't help it, it's a genetic mutation."

"So? He still looks like a fucking giant crocodile. What's wrong with you?"

Madeline rolled her eyes at her friends tiny mind and attempted to escape the bathroom once more.

"Wait a second." Paula gasped, getting in the way once more. "Is he ' _The Guy'_?"

Madeline scratched the back of her head and blushed, giving Paula all the answers she needed and contorting her face into another shocked and disgusted one.

"You lying bitch!" She snapped, shoving Madeline back.

"How am I liar?" Madeline protested, her hands in the air protesting innocence.

"You said you met him six years ago back when you were at home." Paula complained, folding her arms and scowling at Madeline, obviously hurt by this betrayal.

"I did. He was a part of the travelling circus that came to town." Madeline confessed, and Paula became even more shocked.

"He's a carnie as well!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air as if that was somehow worse than giant cannibalistic crocodile man.

"Oh come on. As if trailer trash is any better than a carnie." She grumbled. Paula was right though, carnies were pretty low down on the social ladder.

"So let me get this straight. You're having sex with a giant cannibalistic crocodile monster, circus freak show act super criminal?"

"Technically I'm dating him but essentially yes." Madeline confessed blankly, it sounded ridiculous when Paula put it like that but it was indeed true.

"That's even worse!" Paula screamed, sounding like the world was coming to an end.

"Hey, I don't judge _your_ choices in men." Madeline argued. "Remember that dude that looked like a pig. Lenny or something?"

"At least he was human."

"And Waylon _is_ human. He's just different." Madeline explained, calming down and sighing heavily. "And I care about him. And he _loves_ me."

"Oh my god you sound like a delusional teenager in love with an older man who is so obviously using you." Paula hissed, sounding like a know it all parent.

"He's twenty seven." Madeline exclaimed, probably sounding like said delusional teenager trying to argue her case. Twenty two and twenty seven weren't that far apart though.

"That's not the point! The point is that he is a psychotic murderer who _eats_ people."

"I don't care about that!"

"That's the problem. You aren't thinking outside of your little bubble of desire!" Paula accused. "You aren't thinking about the future. What happens if he gets bored of you and tries to eat you too?"

"That's not going to happen." Madeline threatened, taking on a very stern tone and glaring at her friend. "I know it's not. And I don't care about the future so long as I'm _with_ him."

She shoved her friend to the side to stalk out of the bathroom but Paula grabbed her arm before she could get through the door.

"I'm just worried that you're going to get hurt." Paula begged, her eyes almost in tears but not quite glazing over. Madeline just yanked her arm free and scowled at her now ex friend, and slammed the door in her face. She pushed through the crowd of people and tried to get her bearings on where the couch was. She needed another drink, a stronger drink this time.

Then she spotted someone who looked out of place in a sea of dancing club goers. Tall, muscular, but no one seemed to paying any heed to them. They weren't dressed for a club, and instead wearing a heavy jacket and gloves. Madeline couldn't see his face and as she tried to move a little closer to get a good look people moved into her line of sight. It didn't feel right, he wasn't just another party goer who happened to be dressed weird. He had a purpose. Then she spotted him reach into his coat and produce a strange silver gun of some kind and again no one seemed to notice him do so. It was only when he aimed the gun that people started to back away but not totally freak out. This was when they moved from Madeline's line of sight and Madeline saw the man's face, or rather, the Mexican wrester mask he wore over it. He was one of Bane's men.

The gun was like a dart gun pistol and clear as day in the chamber was a dart containing a familiar green liquid in the glass cylinder.

"Oh no." Madeline gasped, and the thug gave her a wink before firing the gun. The dart sped across the room and Madeline already knew who the target was. She shoved through the crowd which was hard to do due to her size and height but when she made it to a clearing and looked over at the booth, Waylon was already hunched over clutching at his neck, clearly in a lot of pain. Madeline glanced back at Bane's thug but he'd already left and everyone else looked around with confusion. Riddler was the only one anywhere near Waylon and was attempting to see what was wrong.

"EDWARD GET AWAY FROM HIM!" Madeline screamed, running over as fast as her heels would allow her and almost tripping over herself. "IT WAS TITAN. THEY SHOT HIM WITH TITAN!" Riddler immediately scurried away and ran the way Madeline came. As they passed mid run he grabbed Madeline around the waist and tried to take her with him.

"What are you doing? I have to get to him. I have to calm him down before he..."

"There's nothing you can do. Whatever it is you do to calm him down won't work with Titan. Its chemical not psychological. All we can do is get out of here!"

Riddler attempted to pull Madeline away from her goal but she resisted and eventually he was forced to let her go and save himself. Madeline ignored his warnings, she had to get to Waylon, she had to help him.

Waylon clutched at his neck where the dart had hit him, clawing at it and leaving gashes in his flesh. He gritted his teeth and growled loudly in immense pain as the Titan began to course through his body and alter his mind. Madeline got to him and tried to look at his eyes but they were shut tight.

"I'm here. It's going to be okay." She cried, the tears already forming in her eyes. It wasn't going to be okay. Waylon looked to be resisting the Titan's effects but it acted quickly and his whole body shook with intense pain. He couldn't keep still anymore and threw his arms out, knocking over the table and tossing Madeline to the floor. He roared loudly, Madeline froze up in place, and everyone else screamed and ran. He opened his eyes, but they weren't yellow anymore. They were green. Toxic Titan green without any pupils. Just a haze of green that seeped into his mind and cut off all humanity.

Madeline didn't even attempt to start singing, Riddler was right, it wouldn't work. This Titan was too powerful, and dangerous. Waylon looked around and growled like an animal at everyone in the club desperately trying to escape, even the other super criminals making a run for it rather than facing this enraged monster. Waylon looked around for something to kill and his vision landed on Madeline, baring his teeth and snapping wildly as he made a lunge for her, claws reached out to slash rather than hold.

Madeline scrambled to her feet and just about missed being torn apart, making a dive for the bar and ducking behind it. But it offered little protection and with a powerful roar Waylon tore the bar from the floor, taking fragments of the tiles with him and tossing it aside into a group of people who were trying to take the emergency exit, crushing them. Madeline grabbed the first bottle she could find and tossed it at Waylon who didn't make an attempt to stop it, the glass piercing his face as it shattered in the alcohol getting in his eyes. He roared and clutched at his face as Madeline scrambled to her feet and made a run for the exit. This wasn't Waylon anymore. This wasn't her boyfriend. This was a monster. This was Killer Croc, and he was going to kill her.

Once Waylon tore the glass from his face and glared through the alcohol burning his eyes he had forgotten all about his first target and went for someone closer. Madeline looked back just in time to see Waylon snap his jaws around a person and lift them into the air. He shook them like a vicious dog and the poor victims stomach tore in two. The lower part of their body went flying, blood splattering and intestines spilling out. Some of the blood splattered onto Madeline, speckles of red on her arms and face, even showing up on her dress. There was blood everywhere. People screamed and ran about, some getting caught by the terrible monster rampaging around them, getting slashed to death or even eaten in the process before he turned to his next victim. Madeline couldn't breathe, it was all too much. She couldn't think. She couldn't come up with a solution or a plan. There was nothing she could do to stop him or help him. She had to get out of there, she had to go, she had to run.

All thought escaping her mind she turned away from the carnage and ran towards the door, passing the dead bouncer whom only Bane's thug could have killed to get the weapon into the club. She ran out of the door, up the stairs, through the alley and onto the street that was now drenched in rain as the heavens opened and the thunder cracked like a demon from hell. She kept running, not stopping to look back or even retrieve her shoe that fell off when she tripped. She just kept running, following the sidewalk through the dark and cold, her makeup running and her air becoming a tangled mess. There was blood in her hair too but she didn't even notice it. She just kept running away, away from it all, away from the monster that was _not_ her boyfriend, it was _not_ Waylon. It was something else, a monster or demon from hell. It couldn't be him. It wasn't allowed to be him. She needed that not to be him. It was all the Titan's fault. It had nothing to do with _him_. All that savagery, all that primal rage and monstrosity did not belong to Waylon at all. It couldn't be. She needed it not to be the case.

Madeline ran for what felt like no time at all, but when her legs finally tired and almost buckled over, she was practically on the other side of Gotham. It was late and no one was around on the streets thank god, and only the odd taxi drove past, slowing down to peer at the strange running woman in their headlights before moving on. Madeline's knees shook and she couldn't stand anymore. She fell forward onto her hands and knees on the wet sidewalk. She panted for air, each breath making her shiver and quake. She felt her eyes burn as she wanted to cry, so she let it, and sat there on the sidewalk in the cold night air with tears running down her face. No one stopped to help her, they probably thought she was crazy. Maybe she was crazy. It was cold and wet, and she felt her body turn to ice but she made no attempt to move.

Everything was going to be alright, she thought to herself. Waylon would go back to normal and no doubt feel terrible for what happened. He would probably curl up in a sad ball out of guilt and Madeline would have to coax him out of it. She'd tell him everything was alright, that she didn't mind that he'd tried to kill her and that none of it was his fault. But he _had_ tried to kill her, and while it wasn't his fault she was still terrified at the fact he'd almost succeeded. Even if it wasn't really him, even if it was the Titan making him flip out and become a monster, that monster had to come from somewhere, and while Madeline didn't really mind that he _was_ dangerous he had never been dangerous towards her. She'd always been the exception, the person he couldn't get vicious around, the only one who could bring him back from the brink of insanity. But now...

She got her feet and began to walk. She didn't know where she was going but she wanted to go home. Not to her home, to Waylon's home. Perhaps he'd be there waiting for her. Blood on his hands freaking out at what he'd done. If she wasn't there maybe he'd think he'd killed her or something. How long did Titan take to wear off?

As she slowly walked, her legs heavy and almost foreign to her, she passed an electronics shop that had the televisions playing for passersby. Madeline glanced at the eight screens stacked like a pyramid showing a woman sat behind a desk in a studio with a piece of paper in her hand and a screen to her left.

"Breaking news in downtown Gotham this evening as police received a call to a well known underground nightclub after reports came in of the notorious super criminal, Killer Croc, slaughtering the nightclubs patrons."

Madeline pressed her face against the glass window and peered in, horror on her face. Oh no, this was bad.

"When they arrived at the scene there were already mass casualties and the Batman is assisting the police in bringing this dangerous creature." The news reporter explained, reading from the script she had been provided on the topic before putting her hand to her earpiece to listen to new information. "I have just been informed that the police and Batman have successfully brought Killer Croc down and are returning him to Arkham Asylum for containment. We now go live to Vicki Vale at the scene..."

Madeline backed away from the window and culched her hair. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. They had him in Arkham? How was he going to get out? What was going to happen to him? What were they going to _do_ to him in their again? He was traumatized enough about the last time, and now he'd have to re-live the whole thing again. She had to get to him. She had to go to Arkham and make sure he was okay. She had to get him out, but how.

She didn't have time or the mental stability to figure it out and hailed the next taxi that came along. The first taxi ignored her, seeing her as a crazy woman on the side walk and speeding up to get past her, but the second stopped and she climbed into the car.

"Where too miss. Home?" He asked, leaning over the back of his seat.

"Arkham Asylum please." Madeline asked sheepishly, folding her arms to keep warm.

"Arkham. That's way out of town." The taxi driver protested, going to switch off the meter he had just turned on, abandoning the job.

"I have money." Madeline said, reaching into her handbag that had somehow managed to stay with her the whole time. She produced handfuls of cash and thrust them at the driver who just looked confused and slightly worried.

"Please take it all." Madeline insisted, tossing more his way. "Just take me to Arkham."

 **So Waylon is back in Arkham Asylum and Madeline might be suffering from PTSD but who knows. What will happen next? Will Waylon be normal or has the Titan screwed up his mind for good. How will their relationship work when he is in the Asylum, will Madeline get him out somehow? I have to say writing this chapter really broke my heart and made me super sad so I hope you guys feel heartbroken too. Also next chapter we will get a small snippet of the story from the perspective of Aaron Cash so don't freak out when you read the next one.**


	26. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Aaron Cash tossed his riot gear on the table and slumped down in the comfiest chair he could find in the admin building of Arkham Asylum. He had been happily at home and sleeping when he'd received a call for all GCPD police report to an incident at a downtown Gotham nightclub. When he'd arrived dressed up in riot gear locked and loaded to go, he had to face his least favourite Gotham criminal, the monstrous Killer Croc.

He and Croc went way back to the early days of the freaks tyranny on Gotham, and during a riot at the asylum when Cash worked as a security guard, he had bitten off and consumed Cash's hand. Since that day, Cash had nothing but contempt for that monster, and always made sure he was on every assignment that involved bring the reptilian freak down. Hence why he received the call so late at night. It had been a tough fight and they would have lost if not for Batman. But, thanks to the Dark Knight and a lot of electric cattle prods they managed to bring the monster down and drag is scaly ass back to Arkham. This wasn't done without casualties however. Four cops lay dead and partially eaten, not to mention the massacre in the night club, some of the victims even including lesser criminals such as Leslie Willis, AKA the electrokinetic Livewire, who had been found torn in two.

The nightmare was over now, and the monster was safely behind bars again, but for how long. Cash didn't understand why they couldn't just give the abomination the death penalty and be done with it, but Batman insisted that they work on trying to _help_ the vicious creature rather than put him down. Cash glanced at his hook for a hand.

"A bullet in the head would be _helping_ him." He muttered to himself.

"Not happy to see him back huh?" Another officer said as he entered the room. Cash glanced up to see officer William North take off the riot helmet and toss it onto an empty chair. He had been a security guard alongside Cash at Arkham Asylum before they both joined the GCPD. With him was another officer, a rookie called Hanson who had been misfortunate enough to have to deal with Croc on his first month of being with the GCPD, but also lucky enough to survive it.

"Na I'm happy to see him back." Cash grinned, getting to his feet. "I'm just mad it's not as a pair of boots." North laughed and leant against a desk. Hanson nervously took a seat on an office chair, looking a little shell shocked.

"You okay kid?" Cash asked, glancing at the pale officer who looked like he was going to be sick.

"That freak something else." Hanson stuttered, his hands shaking. "How can a _person_ become _that_!"

"He's supposedly got some mutation or something. They initially thought it was some skin condition called _epidermolytic hyperkeratosis_." Cash explained, the conditions name practically imprinted into his mind.

"No way that's a skin condition. He's gigantic, and those teeth..." Hanson exclaimed, his eyes wide and no doubt stained with the imagery of watching his fellow officers get torn to shreds. Cash shook his head.

"Yeah well, the ugly idiot still thinks that's the case. Batman doesn't want anyone telling him the truth though, says it'll speed up the process." Cash explained, folding his arms and glancing at North.

"They should just tell him anyway and let him go crazy, that way they'll have no choice but to put him down." North suggested, but they both knew Gordon would never allow such a thing, and neither would Batman.

"Then what is it then?" Hanson asked, rubbing his eyes to try and get the images away.

"It's a degenerative form of Atavism." Cash explained. "Basically an evolutionary throw back, a bit like those people born with tails." He knew the definition off by heart, he'd read the file so many times.

"Croc's got it bad though." North continued, playing with a little stress ball on the desk he was sat on. "His gets worse as he gets older. And each time he gets injured or something it makes it worse."

"How does that work?" Hanson asked, scratching his head a little too hard to just be an inch.

"Well if you were to say knock every one of the motherfucker's teeth out, they would grow back pointier. If you broke his nose, it would reform into more of a snout." Cash theorised, but he wasn't entirely sure how it worked. "You get it?" Hanson nodded dismally but North had more to add.

"And to make matters worse, the condition is slowly eating away at his brain and making him dumber and more violent. Eventually he'll become a mindless animal."

"Which is why they need to put him down before he comes even _more_ dangerous." Cash added, his point proven. If only Batman condoned the death penalty, then Gotham might be a safer place.

The front door to the admin building opened and in came one of the asylum's security guards, and with him was a woman drenched from the heavy rain wearing a red dress and only one shoe. Her hair was a mess and her face was blank, as if she had just seen something horrible, her eyes glazed over. She had a splatter of blood across her, some of it on the dress and some of it on her arms and face. If she didn't look so damn terrifying Cash would have thought she was attractive. He rushed over to find the source of the blood but he couldn't see any injuries.

"It's not hers." The guard said dismally when Cash became confused. He pushed the girl's hair behind her ears so he could get a better look at her face. The girl didn't protest, she just looked sad. She had a beautiful face, such big emerald green eyes and nose that flicked up in a cute way. She was actually quite stunning, and the more Cash looked at her the more he wanted to hold her close and make her feel safe. But what or who had caused her to be this scared and traumatised.

"Has she said anything?" North asked the guard who shook his head.

"She just arrived in a taxi and tried to open the gates. She wouldn't leave so I thought to bring her in. Dunno if she'd crazy or not."

Cash new almost all the inmates in Arkham Asylum, and this girl was certainly not one of them. She didn't look crazy though, just scared and upset. He escorted her to the comfy chair he'd been sitting on before and crouched in front of her.

"Are you okay miss?" He asked as calmly and gently as he could. "Can you tell me what happened?" The girl didn't say anything, she just stared into space, trapped in her own mind.

Cash reached for the girl's bag and when she offered no resistance he opened it to find her purse. Inside was her ID and a few coins as well as a receipt for the dress that hadn't been very expensive. She must have brought it brand new for whatever she'd been doing that evening. Cash pulled out the ID and read her name and age.

"Okay... Madeline Hopper is it? Can you tell me what happened to you Madeline?" Cash asked, putting the handbag to one side. Again the girl did not respond. Cash wasn't very good at getting information out of traumatised people.

"North, can you go get a doctor for me?" Cash asked, and North gave him a nod before heading off into the facility. Cash tried to think of something to say, a conversation topic Madeline might respond to. Then he noticed the beautiful and expensive necklace around her neck with an emerald pendant that almost matched her eyes. He also noticed the earrings that matched. The dress was cheap so perhaps it was a present from someone?

"That's a really nice necklace." Cash said, trying to bring Madeline out of her trance like state. It took a moment or two, but Madeline's eyes began to focus and she gave a small smile.

"Yeah." She said wistfully, as if not really there. "My boyfriend got it for me." Cash smiled with a pained smile, damn it, she was taken.

"Well he stole it actually." Madeline added, now smiling so sweetly no one in the world could be mad at her if they tried. "I'm the one in the relationship with money." She laughed to herself as if remembering something funny.

"I should have got him that Rolex." She laughed, a little too heartily for someone covered in blood. "It would have looked nice with the tie."

Then Madeline's expression changed once more, now to one of horror and realisation as she seemed to come fully back into the here and now. She gasped inwards and Cash felt her whole body tense up.

"Where is he? I need to see him! Is he okay?" Madeline stuttered at a million miles an hour, getting to her feet. "I shouldn't have run but I was so scared. There was so much blood everywhere I didn't know what to do and..."

"Woah woah woah, calm down." Cash reassured, worried the girl was going to hurt herself. He couldn't tell what she was going on about, she was talking to fast and too frantically.

"Where is he I need to see him!" Madeline cried, tears swelling in her eyes. "So many people got torn apart! So many people got eaten!"

Then it dawned on Cash where that blood had come from. Madeline had been at that night club, and her boyfriend had been killed by Croc. In terror she'd run away from the scene without thinking, and now she was trying to find her dead lover. Cash gritted his teeth. That monster should have been put down years ago.

"I.." He began, not quite sure how to put this. "You're boyfriend might be dead."

"What?" Madeline gasped, looking at Cash with confusion. "No, that's not possible."

"I'm sorry. There were a lot of bodies and some of them we can't identify. He might have made it out okay but if he hasn't tried to contact you then he's likely..."

"No!" Madeline yelled, shoving Cash away from her. "He's not dead!"

"I know you're angry, that monster killed a lot of people and he's going to be punished for it but..."

"No! You don't understand. My boyfriend wasn't _killed_ by Killer Croc. My boyfriend is Waylon Jones."

Cash froze for a moment, trying to comprehend what was going on. Her boyfriend was Waylon? Croc? She was Killer Croc's _girlfriend_? How? Why? When had this happened? She was beautiful woman why would she be with a monster? Why would anyone be with that monster?

"Please. I know he's here. I need to see him." Madeline begged, bursting into tears, clutching at Cash's shirt in desperation. "Please! It wasn't his fault. Bane sent one of his guys to inject Waylon with Titan and make him freak out! It's not his fault!" Cash didn't know what to do. He'd never been in this situation before. Bane? Titan? What the hell was going on?

"Batman, we have a situation." Gordon said, walking over to Batman who peered through the bars of the cage at Waylon.

"What is it?" Batman asked, not taking his eyes of Waylon who clutched at his skull. The pain was so intense and everything ached. He couldn't remember anything but the sour taste of blood in his mouth and the feeling of human flesh digesting in his stomach. He wanted to puke it all up but he felt so weak and dizzy, even moving slightly might kill him. So much blood, blood everywhere. And screaming, so much screaming. Men, women, everyone was screaming as he'd killed them, eaten them, crushed them. Madeline. Madeline? Where was Madeline? Oh god, had he hurt her? Had he _killed_ her? Had he... had he eaten her?

Gordon was telling Batman something but he couldn't hear it. His head was spinning, his ears buzzing, and he couldn't keep his eyes open. Madeline. Oh god, had he really destroyed the only good thing in his life? Was her blood on his hands? Batman nodded to Gordon and returned his attention to Waylon who managed to get to his feet. He put his hands on the bars of the cage and growled. It wasn't really directed at Batman though. He wanted to kill _himself_.

"You killed a lot of people Croc." Batman said, stating the obvious. Waylon snarled at the Bat, baring his teeth that still had a bit of flesh between them. The taste of the blood was starting to sizzle on Waylon's tongue like acid.

"Wasn't me." Waylon protested dully, hardly able to formulate the words. What was wrong with him?

"So someone else tore those people to shreds and ate them huh?" Gordon snapped sarcastically, laughing at Waylon's attempt to defend himself. Waylon growled at the police commissioner but turned his attention to Batman. At least Batman listened.

"Something hit me in the next, and then I don't remember the rest." He explained slowly, the words almost foreign to him. Seriously, what was going on with his brain.

"I know. I tested your blood and found traces of Titan." Batman explained, bringing up a screen on his gauntlet computer. "It caused you to go into a psychotic rage and kill everyone around you."

"So it's not my fault then?" Waylon theorized. He knew he wouldn't be able to leave Arkham just because _that_ incident wasn't his fault but at least it would be less guilt.

"Titan brings out an aspect of you already present in your psyche. For Poison Ivy it strengthened her powers over plants but also made her hatred for humanity stronger. In Joker it made him physically stronger but also made him crazier than ever before."

"Who would have thought that possible?" Gordon added, folding his arms.

"And in you." Batman continued. "It brought out your violent primal rage. It brought out a prominent aspect of your personality and shoved it to the front."

"So what you're saying is?"

"You were always capable of that level of violence. The Titan didn't cause you to do something you'd never do. It just made you do something you are perfectly capable of doing, but in a situation you never planned to do it in. So no, it _is_ your fault. Those people are dead because of you."

Waylon clutched at his head, not wanting to hear the words. He dug his claws into his skull, wanting to crush his own brain.

"What about Madeline?" He asked, hardly able to get the words out for a different reason. "Did I..?" Batman was silent for an uncomfortably long amount of time. Waylon felt his heart beat faster and he began to panic. Oh no. Oh no. He'd killed her. She was dead. The woman he loved was dead by _his_ hands. Batman could sense Waylon was about to start freaking out big time and opened his mouth to speak.

"She's alive." He said blankly, and Waylon's heart caught in his throat. Alive? She was okay? Relief swept over him and he slumped down on the floor, a hand over his face. He hadn't killed her. She was alive. There was that at least. Gordon looked at Waylon curiously, as if unable to comprehend what he was seeing. No doubt he'd never imagined the monster before him was capable of feelings.

"Remember that feeling." Batman said coldly, capturing Waylon's attention. "The feeling of guilt and dread. It's horrible isn't it?" Waylon glared at Batman from the floor.

"Your point?"

"If you never want to feel this way again then you will do what I tell you to do." Batman proposed, his voice going slightly colder and sterner than Waylon thought possible for the brooding hero.

"Oh yeah?" Waylon growled, getting up and walking to the bars once more, bearing his teeth. "And what is that exactly?"

"You are going to break up with Madeline." Batman said blankly, and Waylon felt a pang in his chest, followed by anger.

"And why would I do that?" He snapped, wanting to break through the bars and rip Batman's head off for suggesting such a thing. How could he break up with Madeline? She was the only good thing in his life. Not to mention the only woman that had or ever would love him. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her, let along pushing her away.

"You are going to be in here for a long time Croc." Batman explained. "You have several life sentences stacked up not to mention the ones you'll get for _this_."

"So? I'll escape again like last time."

"No doubt you will. And how long will that take this time hmm? Two, maybe three years. Are you going to expect Madeline to wait for you. To wait for years all alone until you escape for a couple of months before getting put back again. That's not the life you want for her is it?"

Waylon looked away. He didn't want Madeline to be alone forever, but he couldn't stand the thought of her being with anyone else.

"And even if you do escape and don't get caught ever again. Who's to say you won't lose it someday and go crazy, kill Madeline in the process."

"Shut up!"

"Do you want her to die screaming as the man she thought loved her tears her apart and eats her alive?"

"SHUT UP!" Waylon roared, slamming his fists against the bars. Gordon reached for his gun but Batman didn't even flinch. He just stood there, glowering at Waylon with hatred in his eyes.

There was the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs to the holding cells. Heavy boots no doubt belonging to guards, but Waylon could also hear the sound of heels, only one though. Madeline?

"You have a chance to save a life, I suggest you take it." Batman said quickly before stepping back and allowing a terrified looking Madeline to run up to the cage. She looked so scared, her eyes wide and tearing up, but there was a smile on her face. Such a beautiful smile. She had blood on her dress and body, but as Waylon quickly scanned for the source he found that it was not her blood. Poor Madeline. What had he done in front of her. Had she seen it all?

"You're okay!" Madeline gasped with relief, reaching through the bars and cupping Waylon's cheeks. Her hands were so soft and gentle, he just wanted to hold her tight. Cash watched with disgust and shock but Waylon tried to ignore him.

"I'm so sorry." Madeline cried, bowing her head and resting it against the bars as she held onto Waylon for dear life. She was shaking, her whole body quivering as she sobbed. She clutched onto the ridges on the back of his neck, desperate to hold onto him as if he could slip away at any moment. Waylon didn't know why she was sorry but he couldn't bring himself to speak. He just wanted that moment to last forever, to have her holding onto him through the bars, the one soothing thing in a world of violence. He rested his head against the bars too, almost against hers.

They were both silent, Madeline sobbing quietly and sniffling as she did so.

"Alice." She said quietly, and Waylon looked up. Madeline bit her lip and smiled.

"My middle name is Alice." She said a little louder, the tears still streaming down her face. "I'm named after my grandma. And my first pet was a snake. Well, not really. We were just looking after him for a friend while he did a stint in prison." Then Waylon realised what Madeline was going on about. The little details. These were all the little details about her he wanted to know.

Madeline wiped her eyes and giggled a little.

"We lost the snake before he got out though, and they never did find him. His name was something like Copper, but we called him Mr Boots because he liked to slither into mum's high heels. Oh, and my favourite colour is red of course, but you already knew that."

Madeline took several shallow shaky breaths in, as if she were about to jump from an aeroplane or something.

"Let's see. What else?" She said through a warbling voice. "Um. I got suspended from school once for getting into a fight with some other girl. She told me my freckles were ugly so I pulled her hair and even bit her ear. You would have loved it. She has a bit missing now." Waylon smiled slightly. He _would_ have liked to see Madeline do that. She was so amazing, no doubt even when fighting she'd be beautiful.

"And that is why I cover up my freckles with makeup. Err, oh yeah. I'm afraid of bats. Like not just a dislike, I mean I have full on chiroptophobia. Not good for someone living in Gotham."

Waylon glanced at Batman who just looked disappointedly back at him. He had to do it. He had to push her away. Madeline was so wonderful, everything he wanted. He loved her with all his heart, and because of that he had to do the right thing for her. Even if she didn't want it, even if she protested against it, he had to be vigilant and force her to move on. But how? He couldn't just tell her he was leaving her because it would be better. She wouldn't allow that. She's probably visit him every day and gladly wait years until they got to hold each other again. It would kill her though, not literally but emotionally. The drain of waiting for him would eat her alive in a more horrible way than Waylon ever could. And as he looked at her face, so sad but still trying to be positive about it, he could tell that it was already starting to happen. _He_ was killing her. He was putting the fire out in her eyes by holding onto her so tightly. He had to do what Joker had said. He had to push Madeline away, even if it meant hurting her.

Waylon reached up and grabbed Madeline's arm. He dug his claws into her flesh and gritted his teeth. Madeline gasped with pain and tried to pull away. He let go as soon as she did, so not to tear her arm up, and wanted to scream as Madeline was dragged a few feet away from the cage by Cash, a look of horror and confusion on her face. For the first time in life Waylon wanted to cry. He wanted to sob like a pathetic little baby. This was torment, but he had to do it, for her, to save her.

"I don't give a fuck about your middle name." He hissed, just about able to fake the tone but he felt his voice warble. He swallowed his feelings down and let out a growl.

"You think you're special or something?" He asked, sounding like such an asshole. "You think you were some special girl who can somehow break through the monster's harsh exterior and find something soft inside? Well I got news for you bitch, you ain't special."

Madeline just looked at him, her expression caught somewhere between confusion and pain. It was so hard to look at, but Waylon continued.

"Don't bother waiting around for me to get out." He growled, turning his back to Madeline so she couldn't see his face. "Don't waste your time."

"B-But I love you." Madeline said, her words like daggers in Waylon's back. He felt like his heart was being yanked out of his chest and crushed by his own claws.

"You dumb trailer trash whore." Waylon snapped, the words feeling like they belonged to someone else as he used every buzz word for Madeline he knew. "You actually think I loved you? You're just a tool for me, a way to satisfy my needs without any effort, only you took a lot of effort will all those dates and that fucking necklace." He felt it coming, he felt himself wanting to puke as he mustered all his courage to say the words he needed to say.

"I don't love you." He said coldly, the words like acid on his tongue seeping down into every fibre of his body and burning him from the inside out. Madeline just looked at him, a look of utter betrayal on her face, or was it sorrow? Waylon turned his back, feeling like he was going to be sick. He knew he was going to be sick soon so he had one last thing to add to make Madeline leave him for good.

"Don't wait around. Because when I'm out I'll just find another stupid girl with low enough standards to have sex with me."

He couldn't see it but he heard the sound of Madeline's one heel and one bare foot running out of the room being followed by a briskly walking Cash. Once she was out of earshot Waylon wretched and half digested limbs and a lot of blood spilled out onto the floor. What had he done? He'd just broken Madeline's heart. He knew it was for the best but he still felt like shit.

"That was a little harsh." Gordon said, and Waylon spun around to glare at Batman.

"That's what you wanted though right? You happy now? She's gone forever and I'm miserable, are you satisfied?" Waylon roared, slamming on the bars repeatedly. He wanted to kill Batman for this. Rip his head off, pull out his heart and devour it only to puke it up again in the gutter. How dare he force him to do this. Even if it was for Madeline's benefit Waylon still hated Batman for making him do this. He'd lost her, she was gone forever. Never again would he hold her close and bathe in the scent of her hair. Never again would he be able to taste those lips or argue over the stupid colour of a stupid red tie. It was all gone. He was alone, and he felt like he was dead inside.

 **Just rub some salt in that wound. Don't worry, its not over. Still got a couple more chapters to go but I warn you, things are going to get a whole lot worse before they get better and I have some really traumatic things in store for you. I was listening to really sad music while writing this so I might have gone a little overboard with it. Please let me know what you think and I shall update soon.**


	27. Chapter 26

**Okay so we are now three years in the future. This is about a year and a half after the events of Arkham Knight and the stuff in the Most Wanted DLC with Croc and the Iron Heights Prison. If you don't know about what happened don't worry I will explain it to you within the story as it progresses.**

 **Chapter 26**

 **Three years later**

Waylon woke up with the sun gently shining through the blinds, illuminating the room in warm golden light. He was lying on the bed, the cotton sheets pushed to one side and his head on the soft pillow. The room was small but by no means cramped, the lightly coloured walls painted in a soft pastel green colour with a wooden baseboard. At either sides of the bed were small tables, one with a lamp and smile pile of books, and the other one that was closer to him had a clock. At the bottom of the bed was a set of draws and on top of it sat a couple of photo frames and a hand held vanity mirror.

He sat up and rubbed his head. What was going on? Where was he? Waylon reached for one of the photo fames but then did a double take when he saw his arms. He glanced down at his body and couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was normal? Well, almost. He looked similar to how he did when he was in the circus only a thirty year old version of it so he was a little stronger but still more human looking than monster. He snatched up the mirror and looked at his face. He still had reptilian teeth but they sat neatly in his mouth rather than a mess of jagged spikes. His eyes were a little more normal too, more like a shade of brown than yellow, and his pupils were perfectly normal.

The sound of what could only be described as a heavenly angel's voice could just about be heard from the next room, singing lightly. It was a familiar voice, and a happy one at that. Waylon swung his legs out of bed and got to his feet. He stepped on a pair of jeans as he moved towards the door and decided to put them on. He hadn't worn jeans in years. These ones felt a little too big for him so he found a belt in the top draw and fastened it with a steel buckle. It felt so strange putting on clothes like this, and it felt especially strange being so small in comparison to his usual towering height and girth. Suddenly terrified he undid the belt and pulled his pants out, glaring down. With a sigh of relief he fastened them back up again. _That_ hadn't changed size thank god.

Waylon left the room to investigate the sound and emerged in a larger room with a couch, television, dining table, and kitchen unit. It was a multipurpose family room really, and standing at the stove frying some food was a familiar shape with long brown hair singing to herself.

"Hush little baby don't say a word, mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird. And if that mocking bird don't sing, mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring..." Madeline sang, singing in a more upbeat tone than Waylon was used to. He couldn't believe what he was seeing or hearing. This was Madeline. _His_ Madeline, the one he pushed away, standing in the kitchen cooking breakfast?

"Oh, you're up sleepy head." Madeline giggled, glancing over at Waylon right on cue. She turned slightly to give him a smile and Waylon's eyes grew large when he noticed that she was quite heavily pregnant. He didn't know what to say. How was she pregnant? Well of course he knew how, but how?

"What's wrong honey?" Madeline asked sweetly, a glowing smile on her face. "You look like you had a nightmare."

"I... Err..." Waylon stuttered, all of reality coming into question. He hadn't imagined what Madeline would look like pregnant, and now he was seeing it he had no clue how to comprehend it. He did know one thing though, that pregnancy glow people talked about was true, she looked stunning considering she had a person growing inside of her.

"Must have been a really bad dream huh?" She giggled, returning to cooking. "Don't worry, breakfast will fix you right up."

The smell of sizzling bacon wafted over and tingled Waylon's senses. It felt like it had been forever since he'd eaten bacon and it smelt so good. He cautiously moved over to Madeline and after plucking up enough courage to test if she was real or not, he made a move to put his arms around her waist. She didn't disappear in a puff of smoke, she didn't fade away into nothing, she stayed warm and soft in his arms. In fact, she even nuzzled him under his chin.

"It's bacon, eggs, beans, toast, black pudding, sausages, mushrooms and tomatoes." Madeline explained, gesturing to each of the delicious foods, most of which were already cooked and sitting on their plates ready to be eaten. It all looked divine.

"Ew." Waylon grumbled, rubbing his face in made line's hair. "Tomatoes."

"Hey, you promised me you'd eat more fruit." Madeline reminded, looking up so their eyes locked upside down. Waylon vaguely remembered promising such thing but it was kind of fuzzy. He remembered it being dark but warm, and the sound of crickets in the air. They'd been talking about the universe and Madeline had somehow managed to bring healthy eating into the mix and he'd promised to eat more fruit and vegetables if she'd get off his back about it. Then they'd had sex and Waylon remembered being worried about the baby for all of ten seconds before getting lost in desire.

"Sweetie?" Madeline asked, snapping Waylon out of his confused reminiscence.

"Huh? Oh, yeah I know. I'll eat the damn tomatoes." He said lovingly, giving Madeline a kiss on the forehead. Things didn't feel so weird anymore, the memories came back and the _nightmare_ became just that, a nightmare, a bad dream that seemed more and more like a fabricated hallucination with each passing second. This was the real world. This was his real life. Everything in Gotham was just a nightmare. Yes, he remembered it clearly. They'd met when he was twenty one and she was sixteen at Haley's circus. She'd concerned about him and saw him after the show. Nervously, he'd asked her out for a drink and when it came time for Haley's circus to leave town, he'd stayed behind. It had been a gamble sure, but it had worked out in the end. After a couple of nights sleeping it rough or sneaking into Madeline's trailer when her mother was out they eventually saved up enough cash to buy a place of their own.

He worked at mines just outside of town. When he first started there people were wary of him, but they accepted him over time and every Thursday night he goes out with the other guys from work to the town pub and plays darts. That was right. His friend Tom cheats and Larry, a drunk who never shows up to work but is never fired for some reason, just sits at the bar cheering for the looser. And every night Waylon would come home after a long days work to their house just on the outskirts of town and they'd sit and stare at the stars that illuminated the sky. It was the perfect life, he had no reason to have nightmares about such a horrible place teaming with Mexican thugs on steroids and a guy dressed as a bat fighting crime. It was laughable really. The stuff of comic books.

"Can you go get the little rascal for me. Breakfast is nearly ready." Madeline asked sweetly, catching Waylon of guard lost in his nostalgia.

"Huh?"

Who was she talking about?

"You were in dream land again weren't you." Madeline scolded with a smile. "Can you go get William, he's outside playing." Then it dawned on Waylon what Madeline was talking about. William, their five year old son.

"Oh yeah, okay." Waylon agreed, his mind becoming foggy again. What was with him today, reality just didn't want to work for the first five minutes of everything.

He went outside, rubbing his head to try and sooth whatever thing inside it was trying to mess with him. The view from the house was of roaming fields, most of which were golden with wheat fresh for harvest. The sky was a beautiful blue and the air fresh, the perfect morning. Just across from the house a few meters away William ran about with his arms outstretched, pretending to be a plane or something. When he spotted Waylon his face lit up and he ran over, arms still outstretched as he made aeroplane noises, or at least a noise similar to an aeroplane.

"Dad!" He called, charging towards Waylon. Waylon couldn't believe it, the kid was normal. He didn't have anything wrong or mutated with him, just smooth skin like a child was supposed to have. He didn't have the condition. He was a cute little kid with caramel skin and his mothers eyes but he had his dad's nose and ears, well, nose and ears Waylon would have had if he looked more human. William clambered up onto the porch and Waylon instinctively picked him up.

"Mum says you're going to take me to the quarry today and show me how to swim." William enthused, bouncing about in Waylon's arms so it made him hard not to drop. "Do you think I'll be able to swim as good as you, dad?"

Waylon felt weird about being called dad but it felt nice, and then he remembered that it had always felt nice. This was William, the cute but sometimes annoying and a little short tempered kid who had taken three days to be born and caused everyone a lot of unnecessary stress. Still, after all that screaming from Madeline and Waylon almost getting ever bone in his hand broken a perfectly healthy and beautiful child had been born. Hopefully the next one would be a lot easier on the way out. Hopefully it would be a girl, Waylon remembered that he always wanted a daughter so he could scare away her future boyfriends without the need of a shot gun.

"You should be able to swim as good as me. You're my son ain't ya?" Waylon reassured with a proud grin. The kid wouldn't be able to hold his breath as long or swim as fast, but he'd certainly be better at it than everyone else and that is what mattered. William cheered for joy and through his arms in the air, wriggling about again.

"Come on, your mum says breakfast is ready. You know how she gets if we aren't there the minute she serves." Waylon said, opening the front door and carrying his son inside.

The kitchen was gone, the living room gone, the dining table gone and even the door to the bedroom was gone. Everything was gone and the room was cold and dark. The walls were bare and made of steel panels, the floor concrete and the light hanging from the ceiling broken. Everything looked dirty too, covered in dust and grime. The windows were stained and offered no light from the bleak world outside. It kind of looked like the warehouse from Waylon's nightmare, only more decrepit and empty. He was unable to move, he froze in place out of terror. Where was his home? Where was everything? Where was Madeline?

Waylon looked around frantically for Madeline with his eyes but he couldn't move his legs to search properly. Then, appearing in a space he could have sworn he'd already looked at was Madeline, lying on the floor with her back against the wall groaning and screaming in pain. She had her legs open and there was a pool of blood around her as she seemed to be in labour.

"Madeline!" Waylon tried to call, but his voice wouldn't work. He couldn't speak, he'd lost the ability to even form words. He knew what he wanted to say but he couldn't manage it.

Madeline screamed and to his horror Waylon could just see the outline of something moving within her. There was something inside of her. Well, of course there was something inside of her, but this wasn't an unborn child kicking, it was something trying to crawl out through her stomach. Madeline gasped for air as the creature clawed from inside of her, pushing her skin out as it seemed to scratch from the inside, clawing at her flesh within her. Madeline was so pale now, almost blue as she gasped for air and screamed, becoming more manic with her eyes wide from the pain. She gritted her teeth down so hard and began to foam at the mouth, white froth spilling out from the sides of her mouth as she screamed through gritted teeth.

Waylon tried to force his legs to work but they wouldn't obey, keeping him locked in place to do nothing more than watch this abhorred scene. What was happening? What was going on? He shut his eyes tight, he couldn't watch this, but he couldn't block out the screaming at the same time. All he could do was listen to the sound of Madeline loosing every bit of sanity she had as something tried to escape from inside of her. Then the screaming stopped and Waylon opened his eyes to see Madeline lying still, her eyes open but empty, her skin pale and her body unmoving. She was dead. Madeline was dead, but the _thing_ inside of her continued to move and claw away at her insides, trying to escape.

"Don't look." Waylon tried to say and moved to cover William's eyes. It was a bit late for it but nothing was making any sense, the poor kid would no doubt be traumatized for life, they both would be. But as Waylon tried to cover his son's eyes he couldn't hold onto him anymore, and William seemed to drop out of his arms in pieces. He glanced down and saw a small pile of bones, a full human skeleton with a ribcage and pelvis, leg bones and every finger bone broken apart into a scattered mess. In his arms, what he had thought was his son was now only a dry and cold skull with hollow back eyes.

His hands shook. What the hell was happening? Where had William gone? Was this skeleton supposed to be his son, and if so why had he turned into nothing more than bone. As he clutched the skull, eyes wide in traumatising terror, the skull began to disintegrate into ash and drift away in a breeze that Waylon couldn't feel. He looked up to see Madeline's corpse, now even paler and colder than before. But the clawing inside was starting to become more visible on the surface, the last few layers of skin being pulled away from the inside and then, the skin broke and a claw emerged, tearing Madeline open wide and spilling her organs out onto the floor. Waylon shut his eyes, only, he couldn't shut his eyes. He tried but they stayed open, and then he found that he couldn't move his body at all. He was completely paralysed, unable to say or do anything or than watch the mutilation of his love.

The clawed hand came into view as it reached out of the exposed insides and placed itself on the ground. There was a large, muscular arm attached to it with familiar greenish scales and various scars. The arm used the ground as an anchor, as if pulling itself out of a hole, and with a second arm out to stable itself, the monster from inside hauled itself to the surface with its back to Waylon. First came its head, small in comparison to the rest of its body, followed by broad shoulders. Then came the rest of its long body and short legs with clawed feet, and finally the tail flicked into view. A long scaly tail that trashed about wildly upon freedom. The creature was so massive, it wasn't physically possible for it to have come from inside Madeline's body, yet here it was towering over a corpse and snapping its jaws with hunger.

This had to be a dream. This had to be a nightmare, some sort of inception bullshit messing with Waylon's head. If he could just make himself wake up then everything would be alright, he'd be safe and sound back at home with Madeline cooking breakfast, and William playing outside, and everything would be as it should be. It had to be, he needed it to be. This couldn't be reality, this couldn't be the way things were going to be. They had been so happy, everything had been so great but then it had all gone so horribly wrong so very quickly.

The creature turned around and then Waylon felt his lungs cease to work and his heart fall into his gut. It looked like him... well sort of. It was at least eleven foot tall with giant jaws lined with jagged teeth. Its face was hideous and covered in scabby scales, its yellow eyes noxious with nothing more than slits for pupils as it glared with evil satisfaction. Its body looked like an abomination, a long torso with strong arms but shorter legs and a thrashing fat tail. It couldn't stand upright for long so it stood with its hands on the ground like a disproportionate beast that could have only been concocted in a lab of some kind. It seemed to grin with malice and carnal contentment as it disregarded the corpse from whence it came and stalked towards Waylon, its jaws dripping with saliva and hunger as it opened its mouth to take a bite.

"W-What are you?" Waylon managed to blurt out, his words finally coming back to him but he was still unable to move. He couldn't run, he couldn't fight back, he was frozen in place by some supernatural force or his own fear. It didn't matter though, if this beast, whatever it was, killed him, at least he'd be with Madeline again, or just not exist in a world without her. The creature laughed and stalked closer, licking its foul lips and breathing with hot rancid breath. Its laugh had a growl behind it and it seemed to speak with several voices like a demonic entity.

"You should know who I am." It snarled with pleasure in its voice, and then it made a lunge for Waylon. Instinctively Waylon shut his eyes tight and braced for the end, but it never came. Fearfully he opened his eyes just a little, and the completely when he saw that there was nothing there.

He looked around for the monster, and then realised that he could move his body. But as he looked down at his hands he noticed they had changed. They had become larger with deadly claws, and his body looked and felt different two. Then he had a shuttering realisation and noticed the position in which he was standing. He was facing the doorway he had been standing in, this time from inside the room, exactly where the monster had been stood. Had he become...

"You did this." A weak and ghostly voice gurgled, and Waylon spun around to see Madeline's corpse, only she wasn't dead anymore, she was moving and talking with her body still torn open and her insides exposed. Her eyes weren't green anymore either, they were yellow like the monsters.

"You did this." She said again, a little louder and with more hatred behind the words, pushing herself up so her head no longer lolled to the side. She gripped at the ground, her face contorting into a twisted form of vicious hatred and insanity.

"YOU DID THIS!" She screamed like a banshee, her mouth open wider than humanly possible and nothing but a black void inside, screaming like the entrance to hell.

Waylon woke up with a start and bashed his head on the ceiling of the tiny cell. This knocked him fully awake and as he rubbed his head reality kicked in. It was all a nightmare, everything, the perfect life with Madeline, the kid, the little house on the outskirts of town... the monster. Only that wasn't true, the monster _was_ real, and it stared back at him in the mirror. Waylon glanced around his cell, far too small for someone of his size but that was so he couldn't escape. There was a pathetic attempt for a bed in the corner that Waylon had ripped of the wall because it took up too much space, a toilet that was again, too small, and a pile of bones, leftovers from the last meal he'd had. He didn't know how long ago that had been, time had no meaning in his dark little cell with no light. He didn't need a light to see though, so unfortunately he had to look around his horrid living conditions every minute he was awake.

This wasn't permanent of course, this was solitary confinement for inmates who caused too much of a fuss to keep an eye on in the regular cells or had done something worth punishing. Waylon had perhaps eaten a guard when trying to escape, and ever since then he'd been locked in solitary confinement. It wasn't a permanent arrangement though, he had the wonderful privilege of being taken out of his cell from time to time to go to therapy with the wonderful Arkham Asylum doctors who seemed to come up with any excuse to use their shock therapy machine. No doubt getting his brain fried was the cause of that horrible nightmare, and as Waylon slumped in the darkness that had been his home for the past three years he felt the same thing he'd been feeling for those three years, anger and regret.

"Madeline." He whispered to himself. If only he could see her again, just for a moment. The first part of that dream had been bliss and it only made him want her more. But he could never and would never see her again. He'd pushed her away and with her went his only chance at happiness. What was she doing now, he thought. Was she at home? Was she still in Gotham? Perhaps she'd taken that modelling job in Metropolis and was living it up in a penthouse somewhere. Perhaps she had found another man. He growled for a moment at the thought but then softened and considered the situation. He glanced down at his mutated body and tail, his grotesque mouth permanently hungry. It was probably for the best, she deserved to be happy. And besides, she would never want to be with a monster like him.

 **I have been really looking forward to writing this chapter, this dream sequence has been in my head since I wrote that first dream sequence about the electroshock therapy. I know its kind of fucked up but that is point so I hope it rubbed some salt in those heartbreak wounds I have caused in some of you and don't worry, things are going to get better... after they get worse of course**


	28. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Time had no meaning in Arkham Asylum, and the days either flew by in an instant or dragged on for an eternity. Waylon's cell was in the intensive treatment building of Arkham, along with the rest of Gotham's most dangerous criminals. The cells were small and close together, close enough for everyone to hear everyone else. Waylon was in-between Scarecrow's cell and what had been Joker's cell almost every time they put him in Arkham. Joker was particularly annoying to be next to since he spent most of the nights laughing or ranting about something, no one could get a lick of sleep with him around. Scarecrow hadn't been too bad to be next to in the past, but since his fight with Batman he had been uncharacteristically timid and sometimes woke up in the night screaming. Apparently the poor bastard had been injected with his own fear toxin and was in a constant state of terror and plagued by nightmares. Waylon could relate.

Scarecrows assault on Gotham had been quite a night. His fear toxin had covered the abandoned city into a sea of yellow gas, and the militia he had controlling the streets half destroyed the place fighting Batman who Scarecrow revealed to be none other than the billionaire Bruce Wayne himself. It was that same night that Waylon had been aboard Iron Heights Penitentiary, an airship that turned from prison to science lab where Waylon and several other prisoners had been experimented on. Warden Ranken had taken one look at Waylon and seen money to be made, so he'd had the scientists experiment and do tests on Waylon to see if they could replicate his regeneration abilities to create super soldiers or something. Waylon didn't really care what they had wanted to do with their findings, all he knew was the means of obtaining them had been brutal beyond compare.

They had started simple, blood tests and the like, but when that had proved to be too long a process, they started getting more creative. They wanted to see how he reacted to things so they decided to electrocute him, freeze him, and burn him, before using a chainsaw to hack off his arm to see how long it took to regenerate. It had been a nightmare couple of months, or had it been longer? He couldn't remember. All he remembered was the fact that anaesthetics no longer worked on him and he couldn't sleep deeply anymore. He had been fully conscious and felt every moment of the torturous process, hatred bubbling inside him as the scientists watched and recorded every second of painful recovery on their neat little clipboards. And of course, once the limb grew back it was more mutated and monstrous than before. It was because of these scientists that he had developed a tail of all things. They'd treated him like an animal. Well, he kind was one, but he was still a person inside, or at least, tried to be. Some of the days on the airship were missing from Waylon's mind because of the blind rage he had slipped into, thrashing about within his cage only to come to some time later, restrained to a board with iron chains.

One day an overworked guard was a little too slow when locking him up again, and Waylon had taken his opportunity to escape. He'd run rampant through the airship, killing everyone he ran into and setting a few of the other prisoners free to help with the takeover. In the chaos the airship crashed into the Gotham river, giving him the chance he needed to take the warden and a few of the scientists hostage. He'd strapped Ranken to the same board he'd been strapped to countless times and demanded that Ranken fix him, fix what he and the scientist had done to turn Waylon into even more of a monster. Before anything could be done however, Batman and Nightwing had shown up to ' _save the day_ ' and knocked Waylon unconscious. Sure they'd arrested Ranken as well, but the corrupt warden no doubt had friends in high places that could get him out and the asshole would never pay for his crimes. No one cared if the victim was also a criminal, especially one like Waylon.

The faint sound of whimpering could be heard through the wall that divided Waylon and Scarecrows cells. There was always a incessant whimpering sound to be heard when Scarecrow was in his cell, but sometimes he'd get louder as he drew close to a panic attack. Waylon slammed his fist on the wall, causing Scarecrow to squeak with terror.

"Shut up!" Waylon yelled, and the whimpering subsided into a muffled whine. Batman had really done a number on Scarecrow, but at least it hadn't all been for nothing, the identity of Batman had been released to the world as the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne, who was promptly killed in an explosion soon afterwards. No more Batman meant Gotham was easy game, however, most of the criminals were _inside_ Arkham at present, so wreaking havoc was going to be a bit of a problem.

Most of the criminals in Arkham wanted to get out and cause mass panic and resume all their plans to take over the city, uninterrupted now that the Dark Knight was gone for good. Some of the others were suffering a mini-life crisis like Riddler, who had done everything he did to try and prove his superiority over Batman. Waylon wasn't quite sure where Riddler was, probably in a more communal part of Arkham ordering everyone about and annoying all the other patients and guards with his incessant riddles. Waylon wasn't bothered with trying to take over or causing chaos though, he just wanted to find a dark corner somewhere near the water and be left alone. What he _really_ wanted was to be returned to normal, but all signs were telling him that was never going to happen and he was just going to have to deal with being the biggest freak in Gotham.

Waylon stalked around his cell and growled in frustration. The time he'd spent in solitary confinement had only made him _more_ eager to escape rather than teach him a valuable lesson. The guards new that anyway, they just liked to lock up the big bad monster, gave them a little power trip. Sadly, the only times Waylon had a chance to escape was during transfers to and from his daily meetings with the physiatrist, and even then it was difficult since he had a big heavy electric collar around his neck that could be remotely activated to cripple him into submission. The only way he could get out was if he got the collar off, but only the doctors had the keys. It wasn't like he could charm his way into getting the collar off like Poison Ivy would do, but if he got violent they would zap him before he could even make a threat.

There were three loud bangs on the door to his cell and Waylon snarled at the sound.

"Back to the wall ugly!" One of the guards shouted through the small latch used to deliver food. Waylon growled loudly at the sound of the guards voice. He recognised the southern accent, the guy was even more of an asshole than the others. Officer Jasper Kain.

"I said put your back to the wall. Or I'll zap ya." Kain threatened, but Waylon still didn't move. He wanted to charge for the guard the minute they went to open the door. He would attack, rip the guys hand off and swallow it along with the remote for the collar, and then no one could stop him escaping.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya." Kain sighed in a gleeful way, and Waylon felt the collar deliver the voltage. It took a lot of electricity to bring him down due to the high levels he had endured throughout his treatment and his thicker skin. The voltage shot all throughout his body, travelling along each one of his nerves and forcing his body to buckle down. He gritted his teeth and tried to roar through the pain but his eyes glazed over with white and his mind couldn't quite hold onto sanity.

After what felt like a brief visit to hell the collar ceased to deliver anymore voltage, and by the time Waylon managed to regain control over his limbs he found that his hands were locked in irons and his feet chained together. A new addition to the restraints was an uncomfortable muzzle strapped to his face that only become more uncomfortable with each breath. Kain walked into view and gave Waylon a cocky smirk.

"This way nobody gets eaten." Kain sneered, and Waylon tried to snap at him but the muzzle did its job and kept his mouth snapped shut with just enough room for Waylon to speak.

"Right." Kain announced to the rest of his team who were each assigned one of Waylon's limbs to keep an eye on, totalling five. "Patient is to be escorted to therapy with Doctor Vatizlav. Keep an eye on the patients movements and keep your guns on him at all times. Don't be afraid to use them either, he can take a lot of bullets before it becomes a medical issue." They escorted Waylon out of his cell and down the hall, past all the other category nine patients such as Grundy and Clayface, who was in a glass cell assuming the form of Joker to taunt and tease the guards as they passed.

"Hey, wanna hear a joke." The Clayface Joker teased, dancing around in the purple suit. Kain went over to the controls in front of the cell and pressed some buttons. The air vents in the cell began to emit icy cold air and Clayface quickly assumed his original human form before his skin began to frost over. He couldn't shape shift when it was freezing cold. He chuckled at the suffering freak and then resumed the transfer. Waylon growled with disapproval. Clayface was being annoying sure, and _nobody_ liked Joker, but was that really necessary?

In the elevator the guards stood at each corner and aimed their guns inwards at Waylon who stood in the middle. Kain stood casually to the side and smirked with triumph at the restrained monster. Waylon didn't know what the guy had to be triumphant about, it wasn't like he wrestled the restraints onto him, he just zapped him into sedation.

"You are one ugly son of a bitch." He marvelled, as if it were some sudden realisation he had only just come to. Waylon growled at the guard like he always did, but resisted the urge to try something like Kain wanted him to. It was this assholes way of taunting and ridiculing that caused most of Waylon's outbursts and trips to solitary confinement. The guy was just vindictive by nature, but put in a position of authority and given a gun so he could get away with being an asshole and blame it on the patients.

Kain was obviously not content with just a growl and wanted a full outburst so he decided to press some more. It was a long elevator ride, this was going to be difficult.

"Like seriously. There is ugly, and then there is you. It's no wonder you mamma died when she gave birth to ya, she probably got one look at you and had a heart attack."

Waylon shut his eyes so he couldn't see the red and tried to block out the sound of Kain's voice. He really wanted to cause trouble today didn't he?

"Not even a face a mother could love. Although, I did hear a rumour floating around a few days ago while you were in solitary confinement." Kain began, and Waylon was forced to listen out of curiosity. Which rumour was it this time? That his dad was a crocodile from the zoo, that he was actually an alien from another planet, or that he was one of the _Lizard People_ that supposedly ruled the world.

"Apparently you had a little girlfriend at some point in time." Kain began, and Waylon had to use all of his willpower not to crush the asshole guard right then and there. Oh no, this was bad. Batman had sworn all the guards who saw Madeline into secrecy about her so that she wasn't followed by the stigma attached with being in a relationship with a dangerous criminal, especially a monster like Waylon. How had Kain found out about it though, and how much _did_ he know about Madeline.

"Yeah, can you believe it?" He asked casually to the guards who stood rigid in place. "Apparently, this ugly freak had a girlfriend for a while, until he got himself locked up in here of course, then she split. Not very loyal huh?" Waylon growled at Kain but did relax a little, it was a relief he didn't know much about Madeline or what happened three years ago. The guy was just trying to wind him up with the little information he had and assuming the rest.

"Tell me Croc, was she ugly, stupid, or both? Must have been both if she slept with the likes of you. Talk about low standards."

"She was hotter than anyone you've ever been with." Waylon muttered under his breath and watched as Kain's face twisted with anger, but then a grin slid across his smug face.

"I was wrong then. She isn't dumb. Gold diggers have to smart and crafty to get what they want." Kain sneered, and Waylon tried to snap at him but the muzzle prevented him from doing so. The other guards aimed their guns, ready to fire if he tried anything but Waylon resisted the urge to crush Kain with his fists for insulting Madeline.

Kain of course was not content with merely annoying Waylon so he decided press his buttons even more.

"She's probably moved onto the next guy by now, or maybe she's even on her third or fourth guy since you. Some old billionaire with no family to speak of perhaps, letting him give it to her ever night in the hope he'll leave his legacy to her..."

Waylon tried to ignore Kain's incessant and overly descriptive depiction of what he _thought_ Madeline was like. Waylon felt his pupils turn to slits and everything in his vision wanted to go red. He wanted to kill everyone in that elevator, crush them all into paste against the walls and devour Kain's smug face. No, he'd leave Kain alive, maybe just rip out his tongue so he couldn't insult Madeline ever again.

Then Waylon began to wonder where Madeline _really_ was at that moment, what she was doing with her time. Was she still in Gotham? Had she gone home? Or perhaps she'd taken that modelling job in Metropolis. Perhaps she was living it up in the glistening city in some nice apartment with a great view, maybe even sharing it with friends and going out at night to party. Perhaps she was even famous, the cover girl for the most popular magazines, or a model for lingerie, her sexy body strutting it on the catwalk and the envy of everyone in the room. He'd want that for her. He wanted that to be her life. Sure that life didn't involve him, but if she was happier without him then he would be happy as well. It was better for her this way, but still. If Madeline came back one day and wanted them to be together again, he would not be strong enough to do what was best for her and reject her again. Not that Madeline would come back to him after all the things he'd said to her. She probably hated him with a passion, he would be that part of her life she wished to forget forever. Still, he'd done what he had to do to save her from misery, even if it tossed him down into hell.

The elevator jolted to a stop and the doors opened automatically to a room of guards holding guns all aimed at Waylon. Extra protection since he was so dangerous. Even if he could get the collar off, this would still be tricky, and he hadn't even figured out how he was going to start his daring escape. Plans were not his forte but he had to come up with something. If he had to spent one more hour in that tiny room with another psychiatrist talking about his past and why he does what he does and getting told over and over again that he could be a good person if he wanted to. It was ludicrous, he didn't have the option to be good, especially since he was all alone again.

He did get an idea to do with his _new_ physiatrist, Dr. Vatizlav. She'd popped in briefly to see him the other day when being shown around Arkham, he was her first patient. She was somewhat pretty but looked a bit too much like a munchkin. She was quite short, somewhat chubby and had blonde hair. She seemed like the kind of person that would stop to resuscitate dear hit by a car, and that was exactly what Waylon had planned for her. She was gentle and sweet, which also meant she was probably naive and believed there was good in everyone. And since she was new she hadn't had any experience with him before, and as far as Waylon could remember, he hadn't used trickery to escape before so there wouldn't be anything in his file about deception. He just had to try and make it believable.

Waylon deliberately tripped over his own feet, which wasn't hard to do considering the proportions of his new body. He didn't let himself fall to the ground but he did sway a little, confusing the guards who didn't know whether or not to attack.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Kain scolded, but he looked confused as well. Waylon shook his head from side to side, as if trying to stay conscious. Then the good doctor came into the room with a beaming smile on her face, eager to start the session. She looked kind of scared of Waylon, but seemed to be holding her composure to appear professional. Now that she was here Waylon could really put on a show. He grunted, as if he had just been stabbed in the stomach, and fell onto his knees. The guards all aimed their guns at the ready but as he expected, Dr. Vatizlav gasped with shock and concern.

"Are you alright Mr Jones?" She asked in her faint Russian accent. Waylon didn't respond and focused all his attention on crushing part of his tongue between his teeth. He grunted as he forced his tongue away tearing off some of the flesh and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. Then he let it flow forward and drip out of his mouth and out of the muzzle into a puddle on the floor that turned the doctor pale.

"Oh my god!" Dr. Vatizlav exclaimed, her hands covering her mouth. "I need a medical team, now!" Waylon wasn't done yet, now came the important part. He opened his eyes wide and made a deliberate effort to look at the doctor before rolling them into the back of his head, gasping, and collapsing on the floor. He held his breath and kept his eyes open but still only showed the whites. It was hard to maintain but he had to keep it up if this plan was going to work. The doctor reached for his wrist and tried to feel for a pulse but Waylon's skin was far too thick. Then she went to feel for the pulse at his neck but couldn't get her fingers into the right spot because of the collar.

"I need you to take his collar off." She ordered to Kain, who hesitated to obey her command.

"I can't do that Doctor. It's the only way we can control him. Without it he could escape..."

" _With_ it he will die!" Dr. Vatizlav yelled. "I made a vow to do everything I can to help my patients and I am not having this one die on me. Remove the collar!" Once again Kain hesitated but he did do as she asked and cautiously went to remove the heavy collar with the assistance of another guard.

"Keep your sights on him!" Kain ordered as he entered the code to remove the collar. There was a satisfying click and the collar opened. It felt so good once it was off, but Kain made sure to keep the collar close so they could put it back on at a moment's notice. The doctor went to check for his pulse. He had to act now.

Waylon decided to make use of his abomination of a tail and flicked it around quickly, knocking Kain and the other guard off balance so he could bolt up onto his feet. He knocked the doctor to the ground in the process and caused her to scream with terror, the kind and sweet facade replaced with how she really felt. The guards opened fire but Waylon was not going to let a few bullets stop him. He swung his chained arms around and sent two guards flying across the room and crushed another with the weight of the metal clamps. He swung his tail around and hit two approaching guards with tasers in hand. He was not going to get shocked again, he was getting out of here now. He still needed to get the muzzle off though, and the chains around his hands. Then he spotted the fleeing doctor and charged towards her, knocking her to the ground and towering over her.

"Get this damn muzzle off of me!" Waylon ordered, but the doctor only screamed at him. He lurched forward, backing her into a corner.

"Get it off me now and I won't eat you! If you don't I'll just bash your head in until you're retarded!"

The prospect of being made brain dead was quite a horrible one so the doctor acted quickly to unfasten the muzzle. Her hands were shaking and she fumbled with the strap but once it was off Waylon reared up and opened his mouth as wide as it would go to roar.

The doctor screamed once more, certain she was going to die but Waylon decided to keep his word and ignored her. He turned around to face Kain who had one of the cattle prods in his quivering hand. He looked pale and terrified, and now that Waylon was free, he was doomed. Then some more guards flooded in with better, stronger weaponry and a few gadgets Batman had given them specifically for taking Waylon done. His revenge would have to wait. He turned and made a charge for the exit. The doors in the hallway were being closed by guards in a vain attempt to keep Waylon contained. He gritted his teeth and charged towards them as fast as he could, ramming his shoulder into them and knocking them off the hinges. He stumbled a little, he really needed to be on all fours to run fast, but pressed on to the final doors. All the guards in the way jumped to the side when they saw he was not going to stop and Waylon burst out into the open courtyard of Arkham Asylum, the Gotham River ahead of him. He was almost home free.

He tried to yank his hands free from the restraints but couldn't get them out, and it was highly doubtful another intimidated doctor would take them off for him. It wasn't like he had time anyway. There was only one thing he could do, so he growled to himself and snapped his jaws onto his forearm. The pain was immense but all too familiar as he tore at his own flesh, slicing tendons and tearing muscle as he forced his teeth into the flesh. He pulled and tugged, partly chewing and partly tearing until finally, he tore his arm in half, his hand falling to the floor and the stump bleeding profusely. It would grow back soon enough. He did the same for the second one and it too fell to the floor along with the metal restraints. He did feel a little dizzy from the pain and the blood loss but he didn't have time to whimper. He made a run for the water on all fours, his exposed flesh pressing into the dirt and no doubt getting covered in muck and god knows what else. More guards flooded out into the courtyard and opened fire, and even a helicopter was dispatched to stop him but he ignored the onslaught of bullets and fixed his sights on the water.

"Don't let him get to the river!" A guard ordered, but there wasn't much they could do about it. They knew that once Waylon got into the river he was gone for good, they couldn't track him under the surface and he could hold his breath for a long time. And since Batman was long gone, it looked like Waylon was going to be out of Arkham for a good long while. A grin spread across his face as he drew closer to the water, he wouldn't have to have anymore electroshock, no more therapy sessions, no more disgusting meals. He could finally be left alone to die in peace whenever and wherever he wanted without being told the bullshit that he had a chance at anything other than a life befitting a monster. He grunted as the exposed nerve endings twinged beneath his weight but it was almost all over. He made it to the water's edge, only realising now that he had several bullets in his body that had made it through the hard leathery skin. He didn't care about that though, and leaped into the dark waters.

 **Sorry that it has been a while, I had my exams and I've just come home to where my Xbox is so I've been a little distracted. Only about four more chapters left of the story so I shall endeavour to get them done soon.**


	29. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Waylon curled up on the floor of warehouse nine, clutching at his body that felt like it was burning from the inside out. His head was spinning and he couldn't stay conscious, yet no matter how long he was out for he always woke up even more drained and disorientated. It had been like this for the last week, ever since he escaped Arkham. The likely cause was the infection caused from ripping his hands off as well as the bullets that had made it into his skin. His hands had grown back of course and the skin had healed over the bullets before he'd had the chance to pull them out, and now he was sick because of it. He groaned as he curled up into a tighter ball and forced his eyes open in the dingy light. It was sunset and the orangey light lit up the warehouse with a toxic glow and revealed its state of disrepair.

The couch was infested with a family of rats that had chewed their way into the fabric, and the food left in the fridge from that night three years ago had become an entirely new organism all together. The floor was lined with a thick layer of dust and the pile of junk had collapsed in on itself, some of the items smashing into pieces and littering the floor. There had been a junkie living in the warehouse at one point in time with a small collection of used needles scattered about making Waylon's disorientated state even more dangerous. The table was smashed into pieces from his return when he'd fallen onto it, and now he lay curled up surrounded by splintered wood.

The _worst_ sight in the warehouse however, was one of the only things still intact. A small collection of Madeline's clothes hung over the back of the couch that the mice hadn't gotten to get. She'd left some in the warehouse so she had a change of clothes when time got away from them, that way she didn't have to catch a taxi in three day old clothes. Waylon reached out to the clothes but they were far too far away. He managed to push himself up onto his knees and crawl over to the couch and reach out to them, grasping the fabric in his claws. It was still so soft despite being abandoned for three years, and Waylon clutched it tightly. He slowly slid back onto the floor and curled up again, holding the fabric of the shirt to his chest and forcing his brain to imagine it was Madeline.

And as he clutched that shirt and imagined Madeline's warm body in his arms, the fresh scent of her hair for him to inhale and the elegant curves of her body to caress, he felt his eyes begin to swell with tears. He shut his tight which only managed to force more tears to bubble at the surface. _He_ didn't cry. Crying was not something _he_ ever did or ever wanted to do. It was weak and pathetic, the stuff for regular humans and certainly not something a man, let alone a giant mutant crocodile monster, should ever do. Yet, despite the fact he was adamant that he _did_ _not_ cry and _could not_ cry, as he slowly slipped out of consciousness once more he felt a tear slip from his grasp and slide down his scaly cheek.

Madeline examined herself in the mirror, carefully checking that everything was where it should be and that there was no unnecessary bumps showing. She was wearing an off the shoulder black top and a pair of skinny ripped jeans with black snake skin boots. The top and jeans, despite being fairly simple looking, cost an arm and a leg to buy in the shops but thankfully, there were many perks to being a model for the company that sold them. For the last two years Madeline had been working for a modelling company that mainly did high end fashion and formal attire, the kind of things only the rich and famous would wear. She had initially gone to work for the Wayne run modelling agency however, once Batman was revealed to be Bruce Wayne, or was it the other way around, the project was quickly terminated and the models snatched up by other agencies. Madeline was quite thankful she didn't have to model lingerie, several years of working as a stripper had made her quite tired of putting on and taking off underwear. Besides, she didn't like the prospect of men _doing things_ while looking at a picture of her, not anymore, not since...

Madeline glanced down at her hotel dressing table, the emerald pendant sitting neatly in the centre next to the matching earrings. She wore them every day, and only took them off when she showered or had to model something. As she fastened the silver chain around her neck and the cool metal settled in a familiar place on her collar bone, she took a deep, quivering breath in.

"Waylon." She whispered like a prayer, his name causing so many emotions to fill her mind. She missed him terribly and wanted nothing more than to be in his big, strong arms again, to feel his lips on hers and be caressed by his clawed hands. But she also felt very angry towards him for pushing her away in the way he did. She _knew_ what he was doing and she _knew_ that he hadn't meant a word of what he'd said but she still hated him for doing that to her. Sure he _thought_ he was doing the right thing by pushing her away for her own safety and happiness, but she hated that noble white knight bullshit, she just wanted her big dumb crocodile back.

With a quick glance at the mirror to ensure her makeup was right she grabbed her coat and headed out of her room and to the elevator. The generic elevator music played and Madeline tapped her foot impatiently as it made its decent. Sure, since Waylon had pushed her away her career had flourished. She'd moved into a really nice apartment in Metropolis, she had a thriving career as a model, and every guy she met out in the clubs promised her the world in an attempt to get her number. But it all meant nothing when she was alone and the one person she loved more than anything was so far away, locked up behind bars and tortured on a daily basis. Then a smile managed to find its way onto her face and she couldn't help but giggle. He wasn't behind bars anymore however, he was free for the first time in three years and _that_ was the reason she had come back to Gotham.

The news stations had been all over it with police statements, investigations of Arkham Asylum's security systems, conspiracy theories and the general mass panic of how they were going to get the giant cannibalistic crocodile man back into custody _without_ Batman? When Madeline saw the _'Breaking News_ ' report about the escape she hadn't believed her ears. Then, when the initial shock had subsided, she leaped for joy and booked the first plane back to Gotham. It had been pretty booked up so she'd only managed to get a flight a few days later and it had cost her an arm and a leg. It was only when she'd sat down on the plane that she'd realised exactly what she was doing. That she was going to see the man who had pushed her away by calling her all manner of things. The man who had terrified her half to death and killed countless people in front of her in a murderous, drug induced rampage. The man she loved but hadn't seen in three years. It was this realisation that had caused her hesitation to go and see him, and she'd stayed in the hotel for a good two days.

The elevator landed with a _bing_ and the doors slid open. Scooting past the people with suitcases trying to get on she made her away through the foyer and too the revolving doors. It was a reasonably priced hotel that thought the more gold interior they used the more they could make it seem _fancy_. Sadly the number of middle aged tourists walking around gave it away and made the gold decor rather redundant. Madeline had only chosen this hotel because it was the closest one to the docks.

"Heading out somewhere nice?" The bellboy asked as Madeline past him.

"Oh..." Madeline said, a little surprised by the sudden communication. "Err, yeah..." She picked up the pace and exited the hotel before the bellboy could become even more confused and hailed a taxi outside.

"Where too?" He asked, leaning over the back of the seat. "The clubs?"

"West side docks." Madeline said flatly, checking her handbag for some neurophen to treat her anxiety induced headache. She was becoming very anxious about seeing Waylon again, more so than she'd expected she could be. He might be a totally different person to the man she knew three years ago. Three years in Arkham might have turned him into even more of a dangerous creature. He had said that it got worse each time he went into Arkham, what if Waylon Jones was gone completely? What if Killer Croc was the one waiting for her at the docks, ready to attack and kill the one link back to his humanity, the weakness, the liability.

The ride was a long one but the sun set rather quickly, turning Gotham into the dark and dangerous place that it was. Since Batman's departure, all news reports stated that Gotham had become quite the horrible place once more. Crime was on the up and corruption even higher. As they travelled further into the west side, it became more apparent that without Batman, Gotham was doomed. The only solace that anyone could find in Gotham's new state of affairs was that Batman had locked up all the super criminals before getting blown up in Wayne Manor, and it was only the petty thugs that roamed the streets. Accept it wasn't just the petty criminals anymore, if Waylon had escaped, perhaps it was only a matter of time before the other super criminals like Penguin, Twoface, Riddler and maybe even Scarecrow escaped as well, and who would stop them?

Madeline almost didn't notice that they'd pulled up at the docks and that the taxi driver was looking at her for his payment, the meter displaying the outrageous price.

"$100?" Madeline gasped, glaring at the taxi driver who just shrugged his shoulders.

"It's late and it's a bad part of town." He explained blankly, but he just sounded like he was greedy. Regardless, Madeline paid him and slammed the taxi door shut once she got out. The taxi driver didn't leave straight away, so he watched with curiosity as Madeline clambered over the chain link fence.

"Err Miss? What are you doing?" The taxi driver asked through the car window.

"Visiting someone." Madeline answered plainly, swinging her legs over the fence and landing on the other side, staggering as she landed.

"But who? Usually its criminals and the like around here." The taxi driver warned but Madeline just gave him a wave and turned to find warehouse nine. The taxi driver quickly lost interest and drove away as Madeline walked along the water's edge to find the warehouse.

A wave of nostalgia hit her and for a moment she felt like the past three years hadn't happened at all, that it had all been some bad dream and it was just any normal evening with her on her way to see Waylon and have some fun. She desperately wished that was the case but with each step closer to the warehouse, the stronger the feeling of anxious dread in her stomach became and the more her limbs tried to turn to stone. She hovered outside the door to the warehouse, hesitant to open the door and go inside. Was Waylon even inside? What was to say he didn't go somewhere else after he escaped. Perhaps he was somewhere deep in the sewers or maybe he had found another place to hide like an abandoned lighthouse or something. There was of course the chance that Madeline had gotten it all wrong of course and that he really had _meant_ what he'd said to her three years ago, that he didn't anything to do with her.

She shook her head and smiled at her own insecurity. No, that wasn't the case. She knew him to well. He _did_ love her. It was because he loved her that he pushed her away, and it was because she loved him that she let him. As much as she wanted to stay she knew it would eat him up inside to see her ever week but not be able to do anything, to not be able to hold her or kiss her, to have her. It would hurt her as well but she wasn't bothered about being hurt, she'd gladly take all the pain in the world if it meant that Waylon would be okay.

She twisted the knob on the door and pushed the unlocked down open, stepping into the gloom of the warehouse. It was dark, dingy and smelt foul from rotting food. Madeline struggled to see into the gloom, hardly able to make out any shapes other than the couch and coffee table. Then she realised that it wasn't the coffee table she could see the outline of, but something else on the floor. It was breathing heavily, laboured breaths lined with growls, certainly a familiar but worrying sound. She cautiously etched closer, being careful to stay quiet encase it was something dangerous, but then she peeked over the couch and recognised the shape instantly. The large frame, the muscular torso, the ridges across the back. She was about to go to him but then noticed that it couldn't possibly be Waylon, it had to be something else. The creature, whatever it was, had a different body shape. It had a larger torso and shorter legs, rather top heavy. It also had a large tail lying limp next to it that couldn't possibly be Waylon's, how could a skin condition cause a tail to grow.

Madeline took out her phone and very quietly switched the torch light on, covering it with her hand so not to startle whatever or whoever was there. She very cautiously opened her fingers to let a bit of the light through and aimed it low so not to get it in his eyes. She slowly scanned the light over the body and the greenish scales, the more pronounced ridges and spikes along his back like blades. His back was even more hunched and his shoulders broader, the kind of frame that suited being on all fours rather than upright. The creatures body was curled up as tightly as it could go, lying on its side and clutching at its stomach as if in great pain. As Madeline cautiously cast the light over the creature's face her heart caught in her throat. The familiar shape of Waylon's jaw line and the shape of his eyes were present on this creatures face as well as the same mouth and teeth curled into a snarl of agony. This was Waylon, this was _her_ Waylon. What had they done to him?

"Oh my god!" Madeline gasped, dropping to her knees and cupping Waylon's face in her hand, he was very warm. He was slipping in and out of consciousness, trying to move his body when he felt Madeline's arms around him but he could do little more than groan in agony. Madeline lifted Waylon's head and forced his eyes open, shining the light in them in a vain attempt to do a neural assessment but Waylon's eyes didn't dilate, they stayed glazed over and didn't seem to process anything. He groaned and moved his arm, brushing it against Madeline's leg and the he tried to push himself up.

"No no no, don't try to get up. You look sick." Madeline insisted, lightly putting her hands on Waylon's shoulders to stop him, and surprisingly that was enough to keep him grounded.

"Madeline?" Waylon asked weakly, sounding very confused. He sounded awful as well, and his voice was even more gravely than before but at least he was talking.

"What happened to you? Why are you like this?" Madeline asked, examining Waylon for wounds. He appeared to have several scabbed over wounds in his back that didn't look like they'd been kept very clean. Perhaps his wounds had gone septic, that would explain why he looked so weak and why he felt hot to the touch. What made matters worse was the fact that his skin made it impossible for him to sweat so he was stuck panting to cool down like a dog.

"I need to get you some antibiotics or something. Don't suppose you have any?" Madeline asked but Waylon just grunted something that vaguely sounded like a ' _no_ '. Madeline racked her brain for a solution, it wasn't like you could just go out and buy antibiotics without a prescription, and she certainly didn't have the knowhow to steal some from a pharmacy. She did however, remember that her old boss at the strip club used to be quite the painkiller addict and had an assortment of drugs in his office, if he was still there after three years.

"I'm going to get you something to help with the infection." Madeline explained and quickly got to her feet, but Waylon reached out and grabbed her leg, making her jump.

"Don't go." He begged, his eyes at half mast and looking at her, bloodshot and glazed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean the things I said to you. I don't want you to go, please stay with me!" He sounded like he was slightly out of it and wasn't quite sure what was going on but Madeline felt a sting in her chest at the sound of his pleading words. He almost sounded like he was going to cry.

"I'll be back babe, I promise." Madeline said, kneeling down again to kiss Waylon on the forehead. "Just try to hold on a bit longer."

Waylon opened his eyes in the gloom and felt all the life drain from his body when he saw that he was alone. A dream, a mirage, a fantasy come to life to sooth a dying monster, or something poetic like that. He rolled onto his back and looked up at the gloomy ceiling of the warehouse, the whole room spinning. He honestly felt like he was going to die then and there all alone in the dark. Madeline hadn't really been there, she'd just been a hallucination he'd concocted to make him feel better. Of course she hadn't been there, why would she see him now, after all this time. He'd shoved her away, there was no way she'd come and see him wounded and dying in the warehouse, let alone go to get him antibiotics.

He groaned as he felt his stomach churn and try to expel everything bad in his body. He wretched but he hadn't eaten in days so there was nothing to throw up. He wanted to claw at his head to relieve the pressure building behind his eyes and he wanted tear off his skin to let some of the heat escape his body since panting wasn't enough. He wanted to lie in a tub of ice, no, a whole see of ice and cool down. He just wanted it to end. He just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up.

Then there was a glow from out of the corner of his eye, a light coming closer. Was this it? Was this the end for him? Was this some angelic being come to take him to the afterlife. It was funny that it was an angel, he always thought he'd be dragged down to hell if such a place existed. He shut his eyes and awaited the end to lift him from his body and all the agony to subside into nothingness, but instead he felt his head being jerked up and some pills being shoved into his mouth.

"Roll over." Madeline ordered, pushing Waylon as hard as she could onto his stomach so she could force some water down his throat along with the antibiotics. She had only scavenged a few from the club since they had a new manager and he was less than happy to see a stranger snooping around his office. Madeline had been resourceful however, and gone with an old treatment for septic wounds. After stroking Waylon's neck to make him swallow she moved around to his back and straddled his waist. With a knife she'd bought from a kitchen wear shop in a late night shopping centre she cleaved off the scabs, not even rousing a growl of protest from Waylon who seemed to disorientated to know what was happening. The skin was tough to cut through but she had to get to the exposed wounds before they healed over completely. She pulled off the lid of the big bottle of vinegar she'd bought and poured it into the wound. This caused Waylon to flinch but Madeline held on with her legs like a bull rider.

"Just bear with me okay, it'll clean it." She insisted, pouring some more on to wash away the grime. Then she grabbed the jar from a tackle shop and pulled out a small handful of writhing maggots, shoving them into the wound.

"Urgh, this is so gross." She grumbled, as the maggots writhed about in the flesh. She quickly ripped open the bag of gauzes she'd bought from the pharmacy and used an obscene amount of sticky tape to stick it onto Waylon's skin. Then she moved onto the next one and repeated the process until all the wounds were covered. Then she moved around the front again to see Waylon's face and he looked even more out of it than before.

"Come on sweetie, fight it." She begged, not entirely sure if Waylon was going to survive this. He looked exhausted and needed rest, but she didn't want him to go to sleep in case he didn't wake up again.

"I missed you." Waylon said meekly, reaching out and putting his hand on Madeline's thigh as she knelt in front of him.

"I missed you too." Madeline replied with a sad smile. "Been a long time huh?"

"I'm sorry I killed you..." Waylon muttered, sounding like he was about to faint. "...and I'm sorry about William, and..." His voice trailed off and his eyes shut as he fell unconscious once more, his head landing on Madeline lap leaving her very confused as to what on earth he was apologising for.

 **Credit to Dr. Keith Lowson for the alternative medical treatment for septic wounds, a much more creative method than force feeding Waylon antibiotics. As we know he has a great healing factor so he should be all good after a little nap. Poor Madeline is stuck with his head on her lap. So they are reunited once again, but how long will it last. Can they bare to be parted again, or will they cling on to each other for dear life. Find out in the next chapter.**

 **Also please start deciding which Batman villain you'd like to see a fan fiction for next since I will not be making a sequel to this story (sorry Spiritfire). Maybe Scarecrow? Riddler? Please let me know what you'd like to see.**


	30. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Waylon opened his bleary eyes and the first thing he saw was a box of Chinese food hovering over his face. He peered at it, quite confused as to what it was doing there, then when he attempted to move the box disappeared and was replaced with Madeline's beautiful and very worried face looking down at him.

"You're awake!" She exclaimed, putting the box down and cupping Waylon's face with her hands. "How do you feel?" He couldn't quite comprehend what was going on. He looked at Madeline with confusion, peering at her as if she were some anomaly. It took him a second to realise that he wasn't hallucinating and when he finally did, his body acted on its own. He leaped onto his feet, spun around and pulled Madeline into his arms, holding her tightly against him and burying his face into her neck. It was her, it was really her. Madeline. His Madeline. Standing the warehouse after three years apart, after all this time.

She felt so warm in his arms, so soft, and she smelt so sweet and fresh, a pleasant change from the putrid stench he'd grown accustom to in Arkham. She also felt a lot smaller in his arms but that was because _he_ was much bigger. Then something dawned on him. He _was_ much bigger, he looked totally different and even had a monstrous tail. He looked even more like a monster than before, and he didn't know what Madeline thought of that. Sure she might be accepting and nice about it, but he wasn't an idiot... well he kind of was but he had enough brain power to know that he was ugly as all hell. It didn't matter though, the point was he got to see her again and even if this was the last time, at least he could try and make up for everything he said to her that night.

Madeline rested her head against his, her hands on his back holding on tightly. She clutched at the ridges in his back and Waylon could have sworn he felt her shake.

"I never thought I'd see you again." Waylon admitted, sighing with relief to finally have her in his arms. He felt like a great weight had been lifted from him, a heavy burden he'd been carrying around for three years. It must have been guilt, regret or perhaps loneliness.

"I've missed you so much baby." Madeline cried, and yes, she was starting to sob. She held onto Waylon as if he were her only lifeline, trying to stay as close as possible. Waylon held onto her as tightly as he could without crushing her, but not matter how much their bodies mashed together they were still not close enough for either of them to be happy.

But then Madeline pulled away and Waylon felt as if a part of him had just been yanked away as well, that embrace had been severed far too quickly. Then, the reason why became apparent as Madeline's hand made contact with Waylon's face and a loud _slap_ echoed around the warehouse.

"What?" Waylon asked, a little bewildered.

"That's for pushing me away!" Madeline scolded. Waylon could just make out her face in the darkness with aid of the lantern Madeline had brought, and she looked to be much more upset than the light sobbing had indicated. She sniffled as the _slap_ hung in the air, and Waylon accepted that he did deserve that. He looked at Madeline, an apologetic expression on his face, pleading with her to forgive him.

"I know." He admitted bleakly. "I'm sorry. I had to do what was best for you."

"Well can you not!" Madeline interrupted, the tears bubbling alongside her boiling blood. "You're meant to be a criminal, so in the future can you please refrain from any noble acts of selflessness and let me stay with you."

Waylon couldn't help but grin. It was quite funny everything considered. He, the dangerous cannibalistic crocodile monster was being scolded for being too good. If only his physiatrist could see him now.

"I just wanted you to be happy." He confessed, trying to bring Madeline back into his arms but she slapped his hands away. His smile faded and he felt sick to his stomach. No, this was not right. Madeline was rejecting him? No, no, no! That couldn't be it, she was just mad, this wasn't permanent, she wasn't going to leave him all together for this. She couldn't, they'd only just gotten back together. But her body language told him that she was seriously angry though, her arms not folded but clutching at herself, as if she were shielding herself from him. Did she feel the need to shield herself from him, or was it something else? It had to be more than just him pushing her away, it had to be, but what?

"Well I'm not happy okay. I'm fucking miserable. I feel like there is a black hole inside of my chest sucking everything in and leaving nothing but an empty cavity. I feel like my body is closing in and I just want to curl inside of myself." Madeline cried, tears streaming down her face and her eyes turning red and blotchy. "I needed you. I needed you but you pushed me away and I had to deal with everything by myself!" Then Waylon realised something had happened, something horrible had happened to Madeline in those three years that had made her so angry. The anger perhaps was not completely directed at him, borne from something else, but he was a part of it. What could have happened to traumatize her so much.

"Madeline." Waylon said rather sternly, grabbing her arms and holding them fast when she tried to struggle away from him. 'Madeline! What happened?" Madeline didn't look him in the eye, she just looked away and bit her lip, trying to hold back more tears but they were already seeping out from under her eyelashes.

"Madeline." Waylon begged. "Please, tell me what happened." He couldn't bear to see her like this, she was so distraught, so traumatized and angry. She looked miserable. This was nothing how Waylon wanted their reunion to be, he wanted her happy. If he'd known that pushing her away would cause so much more misery than trying to keep hold of her he would have never done it.

"Madeline." Waylon coaxed again, desperate to know what she was hiding from him. Madeline cast her eyes down despondently, and took several deep breaths, as if she were trying to work herself up to speaking. Then she said something very quietly, practically a warbled whisper that Waylon didn't quite hear.

"What was that?" He asked gently to clarify, and Madeline shot her head up and looked him right in the eyes.

"I LOST IT!" She snapped, and burst into tears. Waylon felt his stomach sink and everything in the world suddenly felt pointless. She lost _it_? As in she lost a baby? She'd been pregnant?

"H-How?" He stuttered, not quite comprehending what was going on. As far as he'd been aware he was sterile, and Madeline was on the pill. How?

"Four months in." Madeline sobbed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "There was a complication and they had to... They had to decide which one of us to save." Waylon took a step back and then slumped down onto the floor, sitting bewildered amongst the scattered remains of the coffee table. Madeline suddenly became very mournful looking and dropped down to her knees in front of him.

"Did it..." Waylon gulped, the words hard to say. "Was it like..."

"It had the same thing as you, that's why there were complications." Madeline explained, rubbing her eyes with her palm. Waylon couldn't believe what he was hearing. She'd been pregnant. For how long? When was it conceived? Was it _that_ night three years ago or was it before then. It had been growing inside of her for four months and he hadn't even known, he'd pushed her away and forced her to deal with it on her own. Would things have been different if he had been there? In some weird twist of fate would the baby have not caused complications if he'd been there?

"I'm sorry babe." Madeline confessed, reaching out to touch Waylon. He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him, and she landed in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close against him, Madeline's arms around his neck.

"It's okay." He said, trying to keep his composure. He was actually becoming quite angry about all of this. He hadn't known about it. He hadn't known his girlfriend was pregnant and that he was almost a father. If the baby _had_ been born perhaps Madeline might have never come back, or worse, perhaps Madeline might have died in labour like Waylon's mother had, and the poor little abomination would have grown up unloved and rejected by everyone, miserable and self loathing like Waylon had. Would Waylon have ever found out? Or would he die before he ever met his kid, and the title of Killer Croc would be passed on like some inherited legacy.

"Could you sing for me." Waylon asked suddenly, feeling his anger attempt to drive out his violent side.

"Oh, sure." Madeline agreed, a little surprised. She sniffled a bit to regain composure and soon the sweet sound of her voice filled the room.

"Hush little baby don't say a word, mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird." She sang, her voice still a beautiful as before, washing away all the horrors and anger from the last three years. "And if that mocking bird don't sing, mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring. And if that diamond ring turns brass, mama's gonna buy you a looking glass." Waylon closed his eyes as Madeline sang, loosing himself in the memories of good times rather than the bad. He tried to imagine that the last three years hadn't happened at all, that it had all been some fever dream and that they'd had a great time out at the club, come home, had amazing sex and fallen asleep in a sweaty mess on the couch. He then imagined that they hadn't been in the warehouse, and instead they'd come home to that little house out in the middle of nowhere from his dream, gazed at the stars naked in the moonlight, not a care in the world.

"What happened to you?" Madeline asked, and Waylon snapped out of his fantasy land. He hadn't realised Madeline had long since stopped singing and he'd just drifted off into a daydream.

"What do you mean?" He asked, holding her tightly.

"You look so different." Madeline pointed out, gesturing to Waylon's tail.

"Same thing that happened the last time I was shoved into Arkham. They did stuff to me and made everything worse." Waylon growled, cursing those doctors and Warden Ranken for ruining his life even more.

"And the tail?"

"It started growing one day and I don't know why." Waylon confessed, and that was the part that made him worry. He didn't quite know for sure exactly _what_ had caused him to grow a tail. Usually things grew back more reptilian but they hadn't cut anything off for the tail to grow. Perhaps it was the injections or the exposure to different elements that caused it. But how in the hell did a skin condition cause a tail to grow? He did have a skin condition still didn't he?

"It's an _interesting_ addition." Madeline confessed, and Waylon smiled at how calm she was about it. He'd half expected her to freak out about it, but she almost seemed intrigued by it.

"Can you move it?" She asked with a mischievous grin. She was cheering up a little, or perhaps she was trying to cheer _him_ up. Either way it was nice to change topic from the morbid one from before. Waylon moved his tail from side to side and lifted it up so it was in Madeline's reach. Madeline reached out and grabbed a hold of it, somewhat clambering over Waylon's shoulder to so, and the minute her soft hand snatched around the tip he felt a jolt of _something_ shoot around his body. What the hell?

"What's it like to have a tail?" Madeline asked, podding the tip of the tail as she held onto it. Each time she prodded it or squeezed it a little Waylon felt another little jolt of what could only be described as pleasure. Wait a second. Was this turning him on? Was he getting aroused by having his tail played with? Since when did _that_ happen?

"It's interesting." Waylon admitted, trying not to let it show in his voice that the feeling of Madeline _playing_ with his tail was making him hard.

"Is it like having an extra limb?"

"Kind of. I dunno." Waylon stuttered, why did this feel so good?

"Is it like an _extra appendage_?" She asked, now deliberately moving her hand up and down the tail. Oh no, she'd noticed it.

"Madeline. Please don't do that." Waylon begged, but he found himself unable to do anything other than keep himself sitting up straight which seemed to require a lot of effort.

"Do what?" Madeline said cheekily, feigning ignorance. Then Waylon felt a jolt of pleasure shoot through him more intense than before. The tip of his tail felt warm all of a sudden and he could feel... wait was that Madeline's... had Madeline put his tail in her mouth? Waylon felt Madeline guide his tail with her tongue as far into the back of her mouth as she could get it, which was actually unbelievably far.

"Holy shit!" Waylon exclaimed as Madeline circled around his tail with her tongue. It felt so good. Mind blowingly good. Then the tail blow job stopped and was followed by spitting and gagging.

"You okay?" Waylon asked, a little annoyed that the pleasure had stopped so soon.

"You taste disgusting. When was the last time you had a wash?" Madeline spat, trying to spit all of the taste out of her mouth. Waylon did feel a little bit bad, he hadn't even touched water since he'd been back in the warehouse, and that was a week ago, and he'd been sick.

"Right turn around for me will you." Madeline ordered, getting up and going over to her plastic bag. She produced a bottle of honey.

"What's that for?" Waylon asked, peering at the honey. Was it to make him taste better?

"Your wounds. I need to take the maggots out and put honey on them." Madeline explained blankly. Waylon did a double take.

"Maggots!" He exclaimed, suddenly feeling creatures crawl across his entire body, although he knew that was all in his mind.

"Your wounds went septic. I had to treat them. The maggots cleaned off the bad stuff so now I have to put honey in the wounds. It's a natural antiseptic."

"Maggots?" Waylon clarified, not quite following why there were disgusting little grubs in his body. Sure, he was used to disgusting things, he'd eaten rats before, but bugs were a big no no.

"Just turn around." Madeline asked again exasperatedly.

Waylon obliged and Madeline began to take off the gauzes and mountains of sticky tape. She used tweezers to remove the squirming little bugs and then rubbed honey on the wounds.

"What are these from anyway?" Madeline asked as she moved onto the next one.

"Bullets. When I escaped Arkham the shot at me."

"I thought you were bullet proof?"

"Against regular bullets sure, but they had special bullets specifically for me." Waylon corrected, flinching a little when Madeline accidently prodded his wound with the tweezers.

"How _did_ you escape. I thought Arkham was supposed to be secure?" Madeline asked, rubbing the sticky honey into the next wound.

"I waited for my chance. They were taking me to the new physiatrist so I faked a heart attack or something. They had to take the shock collar off me so they could see if I had a pulse, then I made a break for it."

"Wow." Madeline gasped, sounding impressed. "I didn't know you were so mischievous. I half expected your escape to just be a whole lot of biting and clawing."

"Not so much." Waylon clarified, feeling a little proud that Madeline was impressed by his cleverness. "I had my hands chained up so I had to bite them off to escape."

"Wait a minute." Madeline said, stopping the conversation and looking confused. "You gnawed your own hands off?"

"Yeah." Waylon said as if it were no big deal. It hadn't been the first time he'd done that.

"That's right. They grow back don't they." Madeline realised, remembering what he'd told her before. "Does that work for _everything_?"

"Yes..." Waylon answered cautiously, not sure what she was getting at.

"And they usually grow back different right? Stronger, longer, bigger..."

"No!" Waylon snapped, interrupting Madeline before she could continue. "Nope. Definitely not."

"But..."  
"No!"

Madeline giggled and pressed her chest against Waylon's back, her arms around his neck as she held him and grinned with mischievous thoughts.

"I'm just messing with you." She giggled, and Waylon scowled playfully at her.

"Sadist." He accused. It was nice to see her smiling again, to mess about with him and make him feel normal. She was the only person that ever joked with him, and he'd missed that desperately.

"What can I say." Madeline chuckled. "I like to see my big man squirm." Waylon laughed and shook his head with despair. Madeline was one of a kind, and thankfully he hadn't lost her forever. But what did the future hold for them? Could they just go back to how things were?

"Can I ask you something?" Madeline asked, sounding kind of serious but in a gentle way.

"Yeah..." Waylon answered curiously and cautiously, she wasn't to suggest he cut anything else off was she?

"How do you feel about the idea of leaving Gotham?" Madeline suggested, sounding like she was broaching the subject cautiously as well. Waylon didn't quite have a solid answer to that, mainly because he'd never even thought about leaving Gotham. There wasn't really anywhere else for him _to_ go.

"What do you mean?" He asked, bringing Madeline around to sit on his lap again.

"I mean leave Gotham. Go somewhere far away and live away from it all."

"Together?"

"Yes of course together." Madeline corrected, sounding a little outraged he'd not gotten that straight away.

"I take it you have something in mind?" Waylon asked, unsure as to what Madeline was getting at. Did she have something planned already?

"There's this house..." Madeline began cautiously, sounding like she expected Waylon to say no. She was right to assume that, Waylon did want to say no.

"A house?"

"Near where I used to live, out of town a bit."

"A house"

"It's a fixer upper but it's going cheap."

"A house."

"Yes Waylon a house. Will you please say something other than that!" Madeline snapped, looking a little upset.

"Sorry babe it's just..." Waylon began, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "A house?"

"What's wrong with a house?" Madeline whined, looking very cute with her pouty upset face.

Waylon didn't quite know how to explain it. He did like the idea of a house out in the middle of nowhere, just the two of them. Heck, he'd had a dream about it, all be it one that turned into a nightmare. But the practicality of it was lacking. For one, how would they get there without anyone spotting them, he didn't fit in a car. Second, what did he do when he was there? How could they get money to pay the bills and buy food? Third, did they socialise isolate themselves from everyone? Was Madeline doomed to be a social outcast and have only _him_ as company for the rest of her life. But the biggest doubt Waylon had about it was the fact he hadn't left Gotham since he'd arrived, and he wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea. Frankly, the whole prospect made him feel uncomfortable.

He did want it, deep down inside he really did want it. But there was also this nagging feeling in his gut that would remain even if he did find a solution to all the issues with the plan he had. He was losing it. He knew that. He had enough intelligence to notice the fact he was becoming more monstrous as time passed. Sure, with Madeline he felt normal again, but for how long would that last. How long until he could only retain his humanity around Madeline, and what about after that? What if the way he acted without her became his normal behaviour around her, and then what would he be like when she wasn't around. A complete animal? He'd had days in Arkham that he didn't remember because he'd just lost it completely. Whole days and even a week or two just gone from his memory, or never recorded because he was a monster for that long. What if one day he lost it forever, and attacked Madeline. Clawed her to shreds like the monster version of him in his nightmare.

"Waylon?" Madeline said, and Waylon realised he'd been silent for quite some time and not answered her question.

"It's just..." He began, trying to think of how to put it without alarming Madeline. She didn't need to know he was losing it.

"You won't lose it." She said, her clever brain figuring his worries instantly.

"You don't know that." Waylon corrected but Madeline looked determined to change his mind.

"Yes I do. And don't you pull some white knight crap on me and push me away again for my ' _safety_ '." Madeline growled, doing the air quotation marks. "I don't want to be safe, I want to be with you. I want you and I to go somewhere and just be together." She leaned in close to Waylon's face, their eyes locking and their lips tantalisingly close.

"I love you Waylon Jones, I trust you. I trust you not to lose it. I trust you to protect me rather than hurt me."

Waylon bit his lip with doubt and tried to think. She was very persuasive, but he still worried. He'd tried to kill her when Bane's thug's had shot him with Titan, and what Batman had said was true, that monster had come out of Waylon's true nature, so there was a chance it could come out again. He desperately wanted to put all of his worries and doubts aside and agree to it, to run off to some cabin in the middle of nowhere and perhaps live out the happier part of that dream to some extent. He was torn between doing the noble thing that Madeline hated, or the selfish thing Madeline _wanted_ him to do. He'd be selfless before and both of them had been miserable. Madeline had been safe, but miserable. If he was out in the middle of nowhere he wouldn't get thrown back in Arkham so his condition wouldn't get any worse, maybe he wouldn't degenerate anymore and remain as he was now. They could be happy together, happy and in love like everyone in the world wanted to be. He'd have that happily ever after he always wanted but never thought he'd get.

"So honey? What do you say?" Madeline asked, her emerald eyes glistening with hope. She looked desperate, pleading, begging, like his answer would make or break her spirit. Waylon clenched his teeth together and furiously debated with himself on what to say. Then he decided to kiss Madeline lightly on the forehead and treasured her taste on his lips.

"Okay babe. Let's do it."

 **So yeah a bit of tragedy peppered with some kinky tail stuff, dick jokes and life changing decisions. Quite the chapter. Hope it was to your liking. So Waylon and Madeline are planning to run away together and buy a little house out in the middle of nowhere and live happily ever after. But first Waylon has to take care of a few things in Gotham so watch for the next update. Only two chapters left... or maybe three if I want to do an agonising cliff hanger before the last one. Please leave a review and I will endeavour to update in between work and Fallout 4.**


	31. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

He was going to _try_. God damn it he was going to try his very hardest, do everything in his power to make this work. It was going to work. It was going to be alright. Everything was going to work out. He just had to tie up some loose ends before he left Gotham for good. Waylon stalked through the sewers, listening and searching for what he was looking for. The last he'd heard Bane had taken up in the South of Gotham, in an abandoned apartment block that had been all but stripped of its frame. What he was doing there Waylon didn't know, all he knew was that he needed to settle the score with Bane once and for all if he was ever going to leave Gotham. Bane was the source of a lot of problems, both in the distant past and recently. _He_ was the reason Waylon had been taken back into Arkham. _He_ was the reason Waylon had been forced to push Madeline away for three years. _He_ was the reason Waylon had not known about the presence and death of his child. _Bane_ was the source of a lot of torment for Waylon, but thankfully, the jacked up Mexican could easy repay the debt by letting his skull get crushed into the concrete.

The scent of stale garbage, expensive cigarette smoke and dust wafted into Waylon's senses and he knew he was near. He followed the scent to the manhole that lead him out to the edge of the abandoned apartment complex. Towering buildings build to house countless impoverished, drug dealing Gotham degenerates, now just an empty shell covered in graffiti. It was dark but that only made it easier to see a glowing orange light from a building across the way. Waylon quickly followed the glow until he spotted a group of men, and the towering hulk of muscle Bane, gathered inside one of the apartments, three stories up with a fire and a large collection of guns. No doubt they'd been underground but relocated when word of Waylon's escape reached them. Bane knew that tussling with Waylon now would be a bad idea considering how much he'd gained in size and ferocity, but unluckily for him, Waylon planned on bringing all he had to bring the Titan junkie down.

He stalked around the edge of the building until he was on the other side, far enough away to not take too much damage from the bullets that Bane's trigger happy men would fire out of shock. He climbed up onto the platform through what would have been a double window if the building was whole again, and stalked towards Bane and his men. It didn't take long for one of the men to notice and soon all guns were pointed at Waylon as he stalked towards them, but Bane just looked quite pleased to see the giant crocodile coming for him with a vengeance.

"Ah, so it is true." Bane beamed, opening his arms as if he were greeting an old friend. "You escaped Arkham. Have you come to kill me?" Waylon stopped when the men made a move to fire but Bane ordered them to lower their guns.

"How's that _pequeño novia_ of yours? She wait all these years for you or did she find another abomination to fuck?"

Waylon snarled at Bane for his insult but didn't answer the question, he didn't want Bane's men to know that Madeline was in Gotham just in case they wanted to get revenge for the murder that was about to happen. Bane grinned with triumph when Waylon's silence lead him to believe that Madeline _had_ moved on, and that grin made Waylon feel uncomfortable and angry.

"Ah, so she was a _puta_ at heart. Didn't I tell you that?" Bane explained with a grin, and Waylon became even angrier. Even though he knew the truth, it still pissed him off to hear Madeline being called a whore.

"I'm gonna kill you Bane." Waylon snapped, cracking his neck from side to side.

"Oh, one on one again? Perhaps we'll find out if you are strong enough to defeat me _without_ the help of your little _puta_." Bane sneered, sounding quite pleased at the prospect of fighting again. Waylon wanted to crush this asshole into dust. He was the strongest he'd ever been and Bane didn't look to have changed much since their last encounter so the odds were in his favour. Bane ordered his men to stand down and lower their guns.

"Do not interfere. If I die, so be it, but do not open fire until my heart has stopped beating."

The men looked hesitant to abandon their boss so suddenly, but they obeyed his commands and begrudgingly took a step back to allow the two giants space to fight.

No doubt Bane would want them to circle each other for a bit like in wrestling, but that wasn't Waylon's style, and before Bane had any chance to prepare Waylon charged for him, shouldering the Titan abuser in the gut and tackling him to the ground. Waylon instantly went to bite the brutes face off, but Bane put his arm up and Waylon bit into the muscular, Titan filled flesh. He spat it out instantly, not wanting to go crazy like last time, but that gave Bane the chance to punch Waylon in the face, dislocating his jaw and sending him flying. Bane was quick to get back onto his feet and slammed Waylon into the wall, pinning him against the crumbling concrete by his neck. Waylon clutched at Bane's arm and dug his claws in, sinking them deep into the flesh as Bane attempted to suffocate him, pinning him in a way that kept his head up so h couldn't bite. Soon the pain became too much for Bane to bare and he weakened, giving Waylon enough space to push back and slash at Bane. Bane backed away, narrowly avoiding slashes and shielding the green pipes that ensured his body stayed pumped full of Titan.

Waylon knew he would have a good chance at winning if he ripped those pipes off, but he didn't dare unleash the Titan just in case some got on him or in his mouth and sent him wild. He was dumb when he was wild and even if it helped him defeat Bane, he'd end up caught by the GCPD and thrown back in Arkham. He had to bring Bane down at full strength but it didn't matter, it would be so much more satisfying this way. Bane dodged another of Waylon's slash attacks and shouldered Waylon in the gut, wrapping his arms around Waylon and lifting him up over his head to slam him down on his neck. Waylon grunted as his head hit the concrete but his bones were too strong to break from that. He did feel his head ring and his brain rattle about in his head. As much as he tried to to break from that. He did feel his head ring and his brain rattle about in his head. As much as he tried to keep his mind steady and focused he felt the Killer Croc in him clawing at the edge of his mind, trying to climb out and wreak havoc.

Waylon flipped backwards onto all fours and charged for Bane but stopped at the last second, using the momentum to swing his tail around and send Bane flying across the room. Bane crashed into a pillar that cracked a little but did not crumble under the force. Decent construction work. Bane grunted upon impact but was quick to steady himself. Waylon was quicker though and charged straight for Bane, this time using his fists to bash Bane's face, followed by a punch to the gut and an uppercut. Bane was powerless for a short time but managed to block the next punch and grabbed hold of Waylon's fist as it came hurtling towards his face. Waylon went to slash at Bane's face with his free hand but Bane grabbed him by the wrist and jerked his hand around, snapping Waylon's arm.

"You do the same thing every time." Bane sneered as Waylon gritted his teeth through the pain of having his arm broken again. "You truly are an _idiota_." Waylon growled but cracked a smile.

"Yeah I'm an idiot." He growled, chuckling a little to himself. "But at least _my_ arm fixes itself." Then, as quick as a flash, Waylon bent Bane's arm backwards with great force, snapping it. Bane howled in agony as his broken bone protruded through his arm and his tendons ripped. The pain was too much for him to bare so he lost his hold on Waylon's arm, which had already partially regenerated the broken bone, giving Waylon the chance he needed to get Bane by the throat and pin him to the pillar. Bane scrambled to free himself but the pain from the broken arm was hindering his strength, making his one good arm fairly useless.

Waylon squeezed at Bane's neck, slowly choking him but not enough to make him loose consciousness.

"Looks like I win." Waylon boasted with a malicious grin, baring his jagged teeth and growling with triumph.

"Doesn't matter. You're doomed anyway." Bane sneered, sounding like someone who was content with death.

"What do you mean?" Waylon snapped, pressing a little harder so Bane fluctuated between consciousness and unconsciousness, on the dizzying verge, unable to sleep yet unable to stay awake. He was able to laugh however, a horrible laugh of victory.

"You _tonto_. You really don't see it do you?" Bane grinned, almost laughing at Waylon's supposed ignorance.

"See what?" Waylon roared, so very tempted to crush Bane's neck right then and there for irritating him so much with his cryptic last words. Bane didn't give him an answer, he just laughed and grinned.

"I shall not be the one to tell you. You can find out for yourself, and so can that little _novia_ of yours."

Bane laughed for the last time, a hearty laugh not suited to a dead man. Waylon snarled at Bane and then snapped his jaws shut around the titan abusers head, crushing his skull to pieces and turning his brain to jelly. Waylon dropped the corpse and spat most of the bone and brain out, god knows what that would do to do him if he consumed it. What had Bane meant by that comment, that he was _doomed_? How was he doomed? What was going to happen that Waylon didn't know about. He growled with frustrated. Why did everyone know more about him then he did. If only he'd had the intelligence to listen in when the doctors were talking about him instead of just growling and wallowing in misery.

Before he could dwell on it further, Bane's men opened fire, attempting to avenge their fallen boss. Waylon didn't have time or the patience to deal with them so he made a quick getaway, the bullets unable to penetrate his skin and merely bruising his back as he made his escape. That was one job ticked off his list. Two more to go. The next score to settle was located at Arkham Asylum. It wasn't a place he wanted to get anywhere near but he had to if he was ever going to leave Gotham with no strings attached.

Waylon hid in the forests around the asylum, dense and dark forests that were perfect for someone of his size to hide in. He would have preferred an underground or an underwater approach but that was no longer optional since Batman destroyed the sewer entrance Waylon had used countless times. He knew to be careful though, even if the forests were thick and well covered, that didn't protect him from the guard dogs patrolling around the perimeter, their keen noses easily capable of sniffing him out. He had to keep quiet and watch carefully. It was around this time that Cain clocked off work, soon he would be leaving and Waylon planned to follow him home and get revenge on him for everything he put him through in Arkham.

There was some activity going on in the courtyard but it wasn't Cain. There was an armoured truck and a few guards wearing a different uniform to the rest of the Arkham staff. A prison transfer? Waylon crept a little closer, staying low and peering through the undergrowth at the activity. The guards looked to be from another prison, _Kulani Prison_ written on their uniforms. It was a minimum security prison in Hawaii, good for overflow from other, bigger places like Arkham and Blackgate. But who were they transporting. Waylon crawled a little closer, thankful for his green complexion, and tried to get a look at the person coming out the facility in chains. For normal people it would have been too far to see but Waylon's eyesight was quite good so long as he focused on something specific, everything else in his peripheral vision became a blur. He wasn't able to use this supurb vision however, due to the fact it was so dark and any light would reflect on his eyes and make them stand out. Instead he called upon his other keen senses, instead searching for a familiar scent. He could distinguish between the overly used cologne of one of the Arkham guards, and the scent of menthol cigarettes on the other. The Kulani Prison guards were new smells to Waylon but nothing particularly special, and then he got the scent of hand sanitizer and an overuse of toothpaste, a familiar smell for the one and only Riddler.

Waylon cursed at the timing. Great, now he had another score to settle. As annoying as Riddler was he had helped Waylon out a few times, even if he'd nearly gotten Madeline killed in the process, and he was hesitant to say that Riddler was quite possibly his only friend. He couldn't just leave him to be transferred to another prison, especially since the prison transfer didn't look to be high security and he could very easily set Riddler free. He sat there in the undergrowth pondering on what to do. He didn't really have time to find Cain again, and he wouldn't have the slightest clue on where to start looking. But it wasn't like he'd get another shot to free Riddler. What did he do? Why did life force him to make tough decisions? And why was one option always more ' _heroic_ ' than the other?

The truck engine started and the gates of Arkham opened up. Waylon had to decide now, and to make matters worse he could see Cain walking out of the Asylum and over to his car. Revenge or friendship? Damn this was hard. It wasn't like he was ever going to see Riddler again or have anything to do with him again? He was going to be living off the grid out in the middle of nowhere, and it wasn't like Riddler would know he'd chosen _not_ to help him. The truck trundled past and the opportunities slowly slipped away. Waylon glanced at Cain who was just opening his car door, and then at the truck that was slowly disappearing out of sight. He had to make a decision.

"God damn it!" Waylon cursed, and he turned away from the asylum to chase after the truck.

He stayed in the forest as he ran alongside the road, dodging trees and rocks so not to make too much noise or attract attention. He was fast and the truck was slow thankfully, so he caught up in no time. If he was quick enough he could set Riddler free and make it back in time to intercept Cain's car before it made the turn off. He glanced over at the cabin and saw the one guard driving, the other most likely sat in the back with Riddler, and most likely armed. Still, Waylon was bulletproof to regular ammunition, and it wasn't like he'd give them much chance to react.

Sprinting alongside the truck, Waylon matched its speed and then, once they were far enough away from the asylum but not too close to the edge of the Gotham and potential witnesses, Waylon charged out onto the road and slammed into the side of the truck with his shoulder, forcing it to tip onto its side and slide to a halt just off to the side of the road. He moved over the cabin and tore the door off, reached inside and yanked out the driver. The guard screamed as Waylon tossed him into the air and then slammed him down onto the concrete, splattering his skull as it made contact. The radio buzzed as gurgled as the other guard tried to communicate with his dead colleague. Waylon crushed the radio in his hands and stalked around to the back of the van. Hopefully he hadn't killed Riddler in the crash, otherwise it would have all been for nothing.

It didn't take much strength to rip the doors off the back of the truck and reveal a terrified guard who opened fire the minute he spotted Waylon. Waylon ignored the barrage of bullets and snatched up the guard by the arm. He swung him around, bashing him into a tree, into the ground and finally against the side of the truck, breaking every bone in his body and leaving him dead on the ground. Riddler was lead on his back in the overturned truck, squinting his eyes and groaning. He'd probably hit his head in the crash.

"Come on, get out!" Waylon barked, grabbing Riddler by the arm and pulling him to his feet.

"Waylon? What the heck are you doing here?" Riddler asked, unsteady on his feet. "Did you just save me?"

"Don't get used to it. You'll never see me again." Waylon grumbled, scanning the area for anyone who could have witnessed the crash but it looked to be all clear.

"What do you mean?" Riddler asked, searching for the key to his handcuffs on the dead guard.

"I'm leaving Gotham, for good. I just gotta make sure I don't leave any loose ends."

"You're leaving?" Riddler gasped, actually sounding a little upset. "Why? Batman is gone, once we're all out of Arkham the city belongs to the criminals. Why leave?" Then the answer dawned on Riddler and his expression became one of pity. Why though? Why was he so sympathetic? Waylon didn't have a clue.

"Its Madeline isn't it?" Riddler asked as he undid the handcuffs. "You're leaving to be with her."

"She came back Ed. She came and found me, healed me. I've been crazy for the last three years but the minute I saw her again I felt normal. She's good for me."

"Waylon..." Riddler began but Waylon cut him off.

"What is it? Why is everyone acting all weird?" Waylon growled, throwing his hands in the air. "Bane did it, now you're doing it. It's like everyone knows something I don't. What is going on? What is going to happen? Why can't I leave with Madeline? What is coming?"

Waylon was feeling seriously stressed out. What was everyone so worried about? He wasn't going to lose it if that was what they were thinking. His _condition_ only got worse when he was in Arkham, when the doctors did stuff to him. He wasn't going to get any worse. It was all going to be okay so long as he stayed with Madeline.

"Waylon there's something you need to know about your condition." Riddler began, sounding like he was trying to broach this subject very carefully, as if Waylon was going to blow up at the slightest thing. He certainly felt like he was going to blow up with how confused he was getting.

Before Riddler could say anything however, the sound of helicopter could be heard just over the horizon. Waylon recognised the helicopter, it was an escort helicopter, specifically for the transportation of criminals who might have _friends_ to bust them out mid transfer.

"How the hell?" Waylon snapped, getting even more annoyed by everything that was happening. A damn police chase was the last thing he wanted.

"I know. _I_ didn't even think anyone would try and break me out." Riddler confessed, hurrying into the forest. "Are you coming?"

"Shit!" Waylon cursed, heading into the forest on the other side. "Just go! They'll follow me!"

Waylon ran as fast as he could go, sprinting on all fours through the dense forest but he was unable to avoid crashing into a branch or two, no doubt leaving a trail to be seen from above for the helicopter to follow. _That_ helicopter was no real trouble, but the response team they would send to re-capture him would cause a lot of issues. He'd have to lose them, and out in the middle of nowhere was not the place more that. He'd have to head back into the city, get into the sewer system so they had no choice but to go on foot. He could ambush them there, lie in wait and attack from the shadows. He would win, put down a good number of the guards and then they would go. They would leave Gotham for good and everything was going to be alright. It was going to be alright. It was all going to be alright.

 **Sorry its been a little while. Only two more chapters to go and we'll be finished.**

 **Now, as much as I know a lot of you would like to read a Riddler Fanfiction, I find Edward painfully annoying and I don't think I can bring myself to romanticize him without getting irritated. What I will be writing however, is a Scarecrow fanction about Johnathan Crane in his earlier years of tyranny on Gotham (before Waylon mauled his face in Arkham Asylum) and Alice, a young retail worker who suffers from anxiety and domestic violence from her abusive boyfriend. I was also thinking about doing one about Firefly, AKA Garfield Lyns, and actress Luella Moore. This will take some more research however, as Firefly's character is predominantly portrayed as just** ** _crazy_** **with no real depth so I shall have to do some planning. Let me know what you think?**


	32. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Madeline crammed the last of her clothes into the bursting suitcase. She knew she should have brought a bigger one, but even if the contents could last her a month she had to have a suitcase fit for a week. She'd expected Waylon to put up more of a fight, or at least taken longer to find, so she'd come prepared. For some reason she'd brought along cocktail dresses and fancy jewellery, all free from the contractors of course, but it wasn't like she'd planned to use them. Maybe some part of her had hoped she'd not found Waylon straight away and had a chance to go out one night, get free drinks from men who thought they had a chance with her.

Then it dawned on her that she'd never really get a chance to go out and do that sort of thing once they left Gotham. She had planned to live with Waylon out in the middle of nowhere but not considered the life she was leaving behind. Sure she'd thought about the life Waylon was leaving, he was leaving everything he'd ever known, but she hadn't even stopped to think it through. She was a party animal, that had never changed and never would, and she loved to go out and get attention from people she had no intentions of hooking up with, and she adored the city life. She was throwing that all away to _try_ and live a normalish life with Waylon back in the home town she'd been desperate to escape from.

She wanted to be with Waylon, she really did. She wanted to have him with her always, to wake up with him by her side in their bed, to cook for him, to hold and to kiss, to love and to cherish. But her fantasies were different to reality, and in her dreams they lived in some penthouse in the city, not a cabin out in the middle of nowhere. The penthouse wasn't practical of course, hence why it only lived in her dreams, Waylon was too big and too _different_ to live _that_ kind of life. Their only option was to live away from it all, off the grid, but that also meant away from everything Madeline loved about her life. She'd be leaving everything behind.

As she glanced out of the window at the blackened night sky, all stars invisible due to the light pollution, she remembered that _date_ Waylon had taken her on. That had been a wonderful night. He'd danced with her, as awkward as that had been for him, and taken her skinny dipping. They'd sat in the dark of the Gotham river and watched as the sky became illuminated with the thousands of stars concealed from the city by years of artificial light. It had been a wonderful evening, the best night of Madeline's life, and it _hadn't_ included clubs, loud music or cocktails. That was the kind of night she _could_ imagine for them in that cabin out in the middle of nowhere. A starry, peaceful sky, nothing but the two of them. _That_ was what she wanted, and even if it meant casting aside everything she previously loved to do, _that_ was the life she wanted. Besides, how could she live the life she loved without the love of her life.

The television flicked on with a touch of a button and Madeline surfed through the channels looking for something decent to watch while she waited for Waylon to tie up those ' _loose ends_ ' he'd mentioned. There was a terrible soap opera on, the kind with intro sequences were everyone is happy but the actual show was just full of promiscuity, murder and overall misery. There were re-runs of old shows on some other channels, all the crime dramas with house wives solving the murders, and a history channel talking about the history of bridge making. Board with channel surfing, Madeline switched back to the soap opera and settled down to watch some poor sod find out the baby isn't his and that the real father is in jail for a crime he didn't commit or something ludicrous like that.

About half way through the show, when Madeline was starting to doze off on the bed, there was an interruption in programming to bring the audience a breaking news story.

"This just in, the deadly police chase across Gotham after escaped convict Killer Croc, has turned into a dangerous covert operation into the Gotham sewer system after the super criminal went underground." The news reporter announced, reading off the pieces of paper being handed to her from off screen. Madeline sat up upon hearing Waylon's name. Oh no. No no no no no this wasn't right. He was being chased? No, this couldn't be happening. Madeline crawled to the edge of the bed and stared at the television with disbelief, she couldn't believe this. A few loose ends, that was it, then they could leave. Then they could be happy and free from all of _this_.

She switched to the news channel for the full story and the news reporter spoke over the video footage playing, showing the chase from earlier.

"If you are just joining us now escaped super criminal Killer Croc, was spotted by police attacking a prison transfer bus a few hours ago, killing the driver and guards inside. The location of the prisoner being transferred is unknown but we will endeavour to bring you more information on the escaped prisoner as soon as it becomes available."

The footage showed Waylon trying to escape the helicopter following him through the dense forest around Arkham, even going so far as to throw huge rocks at the helicopter as he fled, but to no avail.

The television screen fluctuated and rippled with white noise as a rumble of thunder sounded, practically shaking the room with a deafening noise. Madeline rushed to the window and looked out to the night sky that had come alive with grey clouds illuminated by strikes of vicious lightning. A storm that had come out of nowhere just like on that wonderful date. The wonderful date that had been ruined by Waylon's crippling flashbacks and nightmares that made him unable to control the monster inside of him. Madeline felt a wave of dread come over her as the lightening whipped across the sky and the thunder caused the whole city to flicker with nervous anticipation.

Grabbing her coat and slamming the door to the hotel room behind her Madeline ran as fast as she could down the hall and down the fire exit stairs. She didn't have time to wait for an elevator, she had to get out and get to Waylon before something bad happened. He needed her to help him through the storm, especially if the GCPD tried to apprehend him in the middle of it all. He would lose control without her, and that would make him vulnerable. He wouldn't think to dodge the bullets, he'd just get hit again and since the GCPD used specialised bullets he would most likely die.

As Madeline ran through the streets of Gotham, desperately searching for a sign, for anything to show her what part of the sewer Waylon might be in, the sky opened up and the icy cold rain began to fall. Like that night three years ago, Madeline was running through the rain in fine clothes, cold and shivering with her makeup running down her face and her hair tangled. People looked at her as if she were crazy, but she didn't give a damn. She had to find Waylon, she had to help him. She wasn't going to let them take him again, she couldn't bear to be apart for a second longer. She couldn't let them kill him either, she had to get there before they did. She had to find him and stop them, she had to do something. She would rather see herself dead than have Waylon die in her arms.

Waylon's plan to lose the cops in the sewer hadn't worked and his backup plan to lie in wait and attack them wasn't going to work either. They had a specialised task force of heavily armoured GCPD officers lead by Cash, with night vision goggles, specialised weapons, and some new tech most likely from Batman that allowed them to see through walls and find Waylon no matter where he went. He still tried to outrun them, but the sewer system was a maze and as Waylon became increasingly flustered he couldn't quite remember which tunnels lead where. It had been years since he'd spent any _real_ time in the sewer system, and his memory was becoming increasingly fuzzy on the topic as he tried to find a way out.

He turned a corner and ran straight into a dead end so he doubled back which took him straight past the officers who opened fire. He took a bullet to the shoulder but kept going. He had to get out, he couldn't lose now, he was so close to finally being happy. He turned right and then left, recognising some of the graffiti. He was near an exit, up ahead should have lead him out into the Gotham river but as he turned, the smile of hope faded from his face as he saw the metal bars blocking his escape. They hadn't been there before. What was going on? Had they... Had the police planned for this? Had they blocked it off? They never thought ahead like this. They were useless, hence why Batman had existed in the first place. How had they thought to do this?

"It's over Croc. You're going down." Cash announced with triumph as his team emerged around the corner, boxing Waylon in with their guns aimed at all of his weak spots. They'd done their homework that was for sure. Waylon could practically feel the red dot in-between his eyes. There was no escape, and he couldn't fight his way out either. He scanned the group, recognising a few of the familiar scents. One of them smelt like whiskey and cheap tobacco, Cain. He should have killed that bastard when he'd had the chance instead of freeing Riddler, then all this mess could have been avoided and he would be out of Gotham before sunrise.

"Now are you going to come quietly or are we going to have to put you down like the animal you are?" Cash asked, sounding like he wanted Waylon to pick the latter so he could get revenge for that time Waylon bit his hand off. Waylon backed up against the bars. Damn his size, a normal person could fit between the bars but he was too fucking massive.

"You don't understand Cash." Waylon growled, trying to get as far away from the approaching guns as possible. "I'm leaving. I'm leaving Gotham tonight. You'll never see me again." Cash scoffed, he didn't believe a word of it. Waylon growled. He was desperate here. He was so desperate he was actually pleading with Cash of all people to let him go.

"Don't you get it!" Waylon snapped, a little too loudly as the police readied themselves for a fight. "I'm done with it, being Killer Croc. I'm leaving and never coming back. Please Cash, just let me go!"

"Let you go?" Cash laughed, sounding like the very thought of it was the funniest thing in the world. "You've killed hundreds of people, injured more. You're a criminal and you need to pay for your crimes."

"No. This isn't supposed to happen. Don't you see, we were going to be happy. I was finally going to be happy!" Waylon cried, horrified as the future he saw for himself and Madeline crumble around him. He was so close, this couldn't be happening, not now.

As if things couldn't get any worse the sound of thunder rumbled through the sewer, making the water ripple, followed by a bright flash of quite light. A storm, a terrible, loud storm right when Waylon needed to keep his composure. If he lost it he was doomed. They'd kill him, and then he'd never get to have that life with Madeline. He wouldn't even get to tell her he loved her one last time. Another flash of lightening sent him to his knees as he clutched at his skull, the memories of Arkham and the electroshock therapy as well as all the awful things they did to him in Iron Heights came flooding back to him like an electrified tidal wave. The shocks, his brain getting fried, isolation, so much pain and loneliness. No, no, he didn't want to remember this. He just wanted to leave, to get as far away from it all. He just wanted Madeline, he needed Madeline. Where was _his_ Madeline?

"What's happening to him?" Cain asked, lowering his gun to peer at Waylon.

"I dunno. Think he's having a crisis or something." Cash suggested, walking forward and standing over Waylon who was crippled with fear. He couldn't bare it, he wanted to lose control, to go crazy and just tear everyone to shreds. He wanted to get out of there.

"Get away from him!" He heard Madeline yell, and the police took a few steps back as his soaking wet and bedraggled, beautiful girl stood in front of him, her arms outstretched as if to shield him from them.

"Madeline?" Cash gasped, lowering his gun upon seeing she was no real threat. "What the hell are you doing here?" Waylon thought he heard Cain curse in surprise that Madeline wasn't the freak he'd thought her to be, but he couldn't be sure as his mind tortured him with its horrible memories. He couldn't lose control now though, he had to stay calm now that Madeline was here. He couldn't hurt her, he couldn't put her in anymore danger, he had to stay calm. It was going to be alright, everything was going to be alright.

"I won't let you hurt him! He's not going back into Arkham. He's coming with me and we are never coming back to this hell hole of a city." Madeline snapped, and Waylon could imagine the look on her face. An angry scowl befitting a monstrous beast on the face of an angel.

"You can't be serious. You're just going to run away and live off the grid or something? Play house in the middle of nowhere? You can't do that." Cash warned, trying to reason with Madeline. He spoke softer with her, believing her to be more reasonable of the two, but Waylon knew Madeline was even more headstrong and stubborn that _he_ was and wouldn't change her mind easily.

"Why not. He won't bother anyone anymore." Madeline pleaded, sounding like she was going to burst into tears as her voice warbled a little. "Just let him be happy, after everything this city and you people have done to him why can't you just let him be happy."

"You don't understand." Cash began, handing his gun to one of the other officers. "Even if we could suddenly absolve him of all his crimes we'd still have to take him into custody."

"Why? Because he's different? You people made him that way!" Madeline screamed, clenching her fists. "You were the people who made his condition worse."

"No we didn't." Cash replied quickly, and everyone fell silent. Even the thunder and lightning faded into nothingness to Waylon's ears. What did Cash mean? Of course they were responsible for making his condition worse. Weren't they?

Cash took a step forward and Madeline took one back, her leg against Waylon's arm as he crouched on the floor. Cash looked over at Waylon and seemed to look almost sympathetic.

"You don't have a skin condition Jones." Cash began, and Waylon practically felt his heart stop. What? He didn't have... No, he had _ichthyosis_ , always had. What else could it possibly be.

"What does he have then?" Madeline asked, sounding concerned as she lowered her arms.

"It's called Atavism. A genetic throw back to an animal ancestor. And in your case Croc, you have a really bad case of it."

"What does that mean for him?" Madeline asked, stepping back over Waylon's arm and putting her hand on the back of his neck. Her hands were soft and gentle, a nice comparison to the vortex of chaos swirling about in his mind. _Atavism_? _Genetic throwback_? What did that mean? What the hell did that mean?

"You guys can't run away and play happy families somewhere safe because as long as Waylon is there it won't be safe." Cash explained, sighing heavily. "You are devolving Croc. Slowly turning into more of a monster. That's why you lose control of yourself from time to time, that's why you went totally savage when hit with Titan. That's why you're condition has been getting slowly worse over the years. The things done to you in Arkham and on Iron Heights have sped the process up sure but... It was always going to happen."

Waylon couldn't hear anything else, the sound of Madeline's shocked gasp, the sound of Cash trying to reason with her. He couldn't believe it. He was... he was devolving. He was going to turn into even more of a monster. A mindless, savage monster unable to tell the difference between a threat and Madeline. Was he going to kill her? Would he kill her? How long did he have left before that happened. Years, months... weeks? He couldn't understand it. No, this had to be a lie. Cash had to be lying. He couldn't be turning. But it all made sense. His slowly deteriorating level of intelligence, his increasingly savage nature. _That_ was what Bane had been laughing about. _That_ was what Riddler had tried to tell him. Did _everyone_ know. Was it just Waylon who was too dumb to realise it. Had this all been a long time coming. Had he been doomed from the start. Had he and Madeline been doomed from the start?

He felt the monster inside of him claw at the corners of his mind now that it had been fully acknowledged, now that it knew it would one day be free and completely in control of Waylon's body. He felt it snarl and snap, tearing at his brain and snapping the mental chains that held it down. His vision fluctuated from normal to red and back again. No no no, he couldn't let this happen, he couldn't lose it. Madeline was right there. He didn't want to hurt her. He couldn't hurt her. She was the last good thing left in his life, she was _his_ girl, _his_ love, _his_ one and only light in a world spiralling into a deeper and darker pit of despair by the second.

Madeline couldn't believe it. He was devolving? How long did he have. How long did _they_ have together. If only she'd stayed. Even if he was behind bars at least she could have spent more time with him before... _this_. He was going to turn into a monster. They couldn't run away together now, they couldn't be together out in the middle of nowhere with a star lit sky and just each other to hold. There was no escaping it, the GCPD or the monster that was coming. It was just like Paula had said, it was one of _those_ relationships. Waylon _was_ that wild guy that couldn't be tamed, and their relationship could only exist in a world of danger. There was no future for them, they could only have the temporary fiery passion and go down in a blaze.

There was no happy ending in sight, no ' _happily ever after_ '. There was no hazy open ended finale to their relationship, it was going to have an end that came like a jolt of lightening. She couldn't believe it. Everything she'd hoped for. Everything she'd thought about. Everything they'd done together was going to come to an end very soon, and she had no idea how she was going to handle it. How soon was it going to end? How long did they have?

"MADELINE GET DOWN!" Cash yelled, and the police opened fire. Madeline felt sharp, burning pains in her side. Bullets? She didn't have time to think about it for too long as her vision blurred over and everything went black.

 **One more chapter to go and the last one isn't going to be a long chapter... but I'm going to wait for a couple of days before I post it just to make you all teeter over that cliff hanger for suspense and shit. So please keep an eye out and leave a review.**


	33. Chapter 32

**Last chapter!**

 **Chapter 32**

When Waylon came back to his senses, he glanced around the sewer at the bloodbath he had caused. Mangled corpses lying in the filth, blood and organs sprayed across the wall, faces contorted in petrified horror, a snapshot from the moment their lives came to a gruesome and painful end. Waylon put his hand to his head, it was throbbing like he'd been bashed over the head with a sledge hammer. The last thing he remembered was hearing gunshots and Cash yell something at Madeline.

"Madeline?" Waylon realised, and looked around for his girl. Had she been shot? He couldn't see her anywhere, but there was so much blood and so many mangled corpses he couldn't tell what _anything_ was, it all looked the same bloody mess.

Then he noticed Madeline's delicate body lying on the narrow path along the edge of the sewer, just out of the water but she still had a bit of grime on her clothes. Waylon's heart began to race and he felt all the blood in his veins turn cold with dread. He could hardly move. He just stood there in shock staring at the lifeless body of his one and only love lying in the sewer like some forgotten nobody. With all his might he willed his legs to move and he hurried over to her, trampling over the dead GCPD officers and kicking them aside into the filthy water. Madeline wasn't moving, she was lying still in the dirt and grime, her body limp and... No, she couldn't be... One of the officers must have accidently shot her when they opened fire on Waylon. Stupid cops, knowing them they probably did it on purpose. Waylon wished he hadn't killed Cash so quickly. If he'd kept him alive he could have tortured him before ripping his head off. How dare he hurt Madeline. Waylon dropped to his knees and scooped Madeline into his arms, she still wasn't moving, but her chest rose ever so slightly, a weak breath but she was still alive. Thank god she was still alive.

Feeling hopeful that she would make it, Waylon turned his attention to the gunshot wound to see how bad it was, what organs it had pierced if any. She was going to be okay. He'd take her to a hospital, force them to operate on her instead of freaking out about him and she'd be okay. They could leave together and be happy, live out in the middle of nowhere away from Gotham, away from the GCPD, and away from everything horrible. Waylon would try to control himself, he would find a way to stop his affliction from devolving him any further. He couldn't bear the thought of Madeline dying on him, he needed her, she was his only light, his only hope, his only salvation. She was the one thing that let him hold onto his humanity through all the crap that had happened to him. He _needed_ her. He _loved_ her. But as he cast his eyes onto the wound his face turned pale and his stomach churned with revulsion, his hands shaking and his limbs becoming as heavy as lead. They weren't bullet wounds. They were teeth marks.

Madeline's torso was crushed, her rib cage shattered and her lungs punctured by the broken bone. The gashes in her side opened up her organs and Waylon could practically see them trying to spill out of her body. One of her arms was broken and bent at a funny angle, her neck leaning to the side as if it were about to come off. Her chest rose and settled lightly as she wheezed for air, her eyes wide open and her face a sickly pale and covered in beads of sweat. Waylon felt his body shake, practically convulsing as he held Madeline in his arms. She was still alive. Oh god, she was _still_ alive.

"M-Madeline?" He quivered, his voice warbled and in seconds he felt tears fall from his eyes. Oh god, what had he done. Had he done this? Oh god he had done this. He'd done this to her, to Madeline. He'd crushed her. He'd practically killed her.

Madeline's eyes were wide and the gleaming emerald green was dull and outlined with red. A single tear streaked from the corner of her bloodshot eyes and dribbled down the side of her cheek, but she didn't look angry, or terrified, she look sorry. As she lay in his arms, practically dying from injuries _he_ had caused she looked mournful, as if she was sad to leave him rather than mortified that she'd ever loved such a monster. No, she wasn't going to die. He had to get her to a hospital, but when he tried to move her, squeezing his eyes shut tight, Madeline let out a groan of immense pain and Waylon stopped immediately.

"Don't move me." Madeline begged weakly, grinning a little as Waylon settled her back down.

"I have to get you to a hospital. They can... They'll fix you. They'll save you, I have to..." Waylon pleaded, saying it more for _his_ benefit than Madeline's. If he got her to a hospital she would be okay. They could fix a broken arm and repair her body, fix the lung or something, modern medicine was great like that. She was going to be okay. She had to be okay.

"Shhh." Madeline cooed gently, raising her good hand and cupping the side of Waylon's cheek. The minute her skin came into contact with his he felt a wave of emotions, hitting him like a hailstorm and he wanted to tear himself apart. She was going to die. Madeline was going to die and it was all his fault.

"It's okay." Madeline reassured as Waylon clutched at her hand, holding it tightly as if she would slip away if he let go.

"It's not okay!" Waylon sobbed, clenching his teeth. "You are going to die because of me! It's all my fault!"

"It's not your fault babe. I don't blame you." Madeline confessed, a sweet smile on her face that in any other circumstance would make all the problems in the world go away, but in this moment it just made Waylon feel like he'd just taken a dagger to the heart. How could she say it wasn't his fault? How could she not hate him for this? How did she still love him? HOW? Waylon couldn't even look at her, he didn't dare look in the eyes of this amazing woman that had given him so much joy in the brief time they'd had together. The woman he'd imagined his whole life with. The woman that he would have turned good for. He was going to abandon everything he was to be with her and live happily. But now that dream was all over, and just like his nightmare, Madeline was lying dead at _his_ hands.

Waylon felt his vision flicker red and his eyes want to shift to slits. Killer Croc wanted to come out and wreak havoc, and its first victim would be Waylon. And why not. Why shouldn't he let Killer Croc come out and take over forever, Madeline was doomed and Waylon didn't want to live anymore. It would be better if he let the monster inside him come out for good and do whatever it wanted until it got itself killed. That would be best for him, for Madeline, for everyone.

"Hush little baby don't say a word..." Madeline began, and her sweet voice like a siren's melody cut through everything and pierced Waylon's mind, calming him down in an instant. He turned to her, her cheeks streaked with tears as she smiled at him with such a sweet smile. Her eyes were glistening and for a brief moment she looked like an angel that fallen into hell, and he was the demon to see her demise.

"...mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird. If that mocking bird don't sing, mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring..."

Waylon gazed into Madeline's eyes and the world around them faded away into nothing. It was just them, alone somewhere other than a sewer, somewhere nicer. That cabin perhaps, with the stars above them and their whole lives ahead of them. Not this. Anything but _this_ place.

"If that diamond ring turns brass..." Madeline sang, but then her face turned a little paler and she coughed. Blood splattered onto her chest but she still struggled to continue the song.

"Don't sing." Waylon begged, unsure on what he could possibly do. He couldn't move her, she'd die. But not getting her to hospital would end her life as well. She was going to die either way, there was nothing he could do. There was _nothing_ he could do!

"...mama's gonna buy you a looking g-glass." Madeline gasped, finding it hard to breath. She gasped for air and Waylon held onto her tightly.

"No, no, NO! You can't die, stay alive for me please, Madeline!" Waylon begged, but Madeline just smiled at him and opened her mouth to sing some more, but her face was unable to hide the pain she was in, and neither was her voice.

"...and if that... looking glass gets... broke..."

She gasped for hair, sounding as if she were suffocating. Waylon was powerless to do anything other than hold her body as it turned colder in his arms.

"...mama's gonna buy you..."

Madeline's hand dropped from Waylon's cheek and fell limp at her side. Her head lolled to the side, facing away from Waylon but her eyes stayed open, void of life. Waylon just stared at her body for what felt like an eternity. She was dead? Madeline was dead? No, she couldn't be dead.

"Madeline?" Waylon asked nervously, trying to jostle her away. Maybe she was just unconscious. But the way her body flopped in his arms and the way her lips turned blue forced Waylon to accept reality. He didn't want to accept reality though. He didn't want reality, he wanted Madeline.

"Madeline!" Waylon ordered, as if he could somehow demand she come back to life. He felt his heart race inside of his chest and his breath became quick and shallow.

"MADELINE!" He roared, pulling Madeline into his arms and clutching her tightly, rocking her back and forth. She was dead. She was DEAD! He'd killed her. HE'D KILLED HER!

For how long Waylon sat there in the dark, holding the dead body of the one and only person who had ever loved him, he did not know. It felt like it could have been a thousand years, but it also felt like it had only been a moment. His eyes were sore from crying, red and dreary. He wanted to die too. He just wanted to fade away. Even the thunder and lightning outside meant nothing to him anymore. Nothing could be more painful than knowing you were responsible for the death of your lover.

"I'm so sorry Madeline." He sobbed, clutching her to him one last time before gritting his teeth and growling to himself. He willed the monster inside of him to come out, to take over forever and wreak as much havoc and carnage as it willed. It didn't matter what happened to him anymore, Madeline was gone forever. And as Killer Croc rose to his feet, he let the lifeless corpse of the woman he had loved fall into the gutter alongside the last of Waylon's humanity.

End...?

 **Okay I've been thinking... I might do a sequel. Might! I dunno yet, gotta work out kinks. In the mean time I shall be figuring out what to write next. I am thinking about doing a Scarecrow Fanficiton but I am trying to figure out what kind of personality I want for the love interest and all that plot stuff. I think my next fan fiction will probably be a Fallout fan fiction so if you love fallout you're in luck but as far as Batman goes I need to do some planning before I can get anything down. Please please please if you have any ideas for a Scarecrow, Firefly, Kingshark or whatever fan fiction please PM me and help me figure out what to write because I love the Batman universe and its so painful when I'm blocked like this.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this fan fiction and I will endeavour to bring you more**


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